Thursday, February 8, 2018

A perfect opening line.

I could live in this song with you. 
There is a song I could live in with you. 
There is a song I live in with you. A story that is yours and mine.
 It feels... like there is perfect opening line. 
A perfect opening line. 
This poem is just for you and me. 
No one else. 
For the song that I live in that is you. 
The curve of your chin that I out line over and over with the tips of my fingers.
 How you swept me into my dreams and now even if you waltz away I hope I remember the solid sweetness. 
As sure as sap that drips down the trees.
That our dreams were shared, separately 
but when mixed together fit.
Like the perfect pot of soup. 
The magic brew. 
They filled the caldron full. Bubbled - boiled over with magic bubbles. 
Steamed up my kitchen and I couldn't get the scent off of me. 
A magic. 
That swept into my dreams. 
A fist full of my dreams and yours mixed with rosemary and lemon sorrel and afternoon  sun. 
Like our dreams were mixed up in the clouds before we even knew. 
Like the bobbing heads of cosmos light filtering threw their Petals that your parents planted and entranced me.
The beginning of the spell. 
Cast into the earth and my soul.

Project it all on me sky and I will magnify his love.
 I will burn my love into wood. 
Pierce this reality with a story so long and old, so enchanted he will never leave 
even when our dance together is done. 
So enchanted we can never leave.
For I am still the child who dreams. 
I am the girl swept away by melodies. 
Who waltzes with desire. 
The little girl who will never die I until I die. 
For her I believe. 
Oh the throbbing heart of the earth that gave me this dream. 
Offers me no treasure that I can refuse. 
Oh magic juices. 
Mystic fluids flow through my body telling me it is right.  
It is just to run. 
To it to your bed to your arms. 
Fly me higher then I thought I would go. 
Lower than I was. 
I forfeit it all. 
all love is a trade. 
That all trades take. 
That reward is not given without being brave.
How I would risk it all to taste your sweet sugar smile. 
To hear you say again that it's impossible not to love me. 
For you only I am grand. 
For I am addicted to the spell the world cast upon me when you said you loved me. 
I am enraptured by the gentle beast that is you. 
The sadly tamed thing that I long to free. 
That I fear 
to free. 
Like a wind that blew through me. 
How I long to capture it. 
And fear to do so. 
Stay with me 
Son of the great spirits, wild wind. 
I will dance in dreams with you over and over. 
My mythology is you and your rolling unknowable edges. 
Your encompassing soul that has entwined me.  
Blow through my hair. 
Flow through my body. 
You are my poison my food, my antidote to the curse. 
The curse of this small life. 
The curse that I excepted so long ago. 
The curse I was handed from the stars through my parents and all who came before.  
That we were all handed from the first scream of creation. 

You are my magic pebble. 
Now I will toss you up. 
Up into the air. 
I will toss you away to the winds that brought you. 
Who are you. 
Blend with them. 
Land where you will. 
Never forget me no matter the that winds or water wear. 
My heart is seeded in you. 
I planted it there. 
With every kiss you let me give you. 
Could I plant enough kisses in 2 months to combat the torture of fate to only bring us together and then leave us back here in earth with our small fates. 
Our little lives. 
Oh brother dreamer. 
Get lost with me again. 
Wander through the wild lands enchanted world.

If I could I would give you the world to write about. 
I would send you songs in your dreams. 
And if your heart gets crushed into the earth 
I hope then I have loved you for enough years that I know you will always be with me. 
If I could squeeze you tight enough to wring all the sorrow of the world out and let you start again in a new universe. 
I one pure of violence and rage. 
If I could dream that world up I would paint it on your soul. 
If I could rescue us from fate. From the curses. 
The curse of wanting, the curse of wishing it was different. 
The curse that you my prince will die. 
That our love will crumble.  
That I am only one of a billion princesses lost in the spiraling falling toward earth hoping we will be caught in safe arms. 
Scoop me up for one more day and tell me this day it is ok. 
This day we are alright.  
Safe one more day. 
float me in your capable strong arms 
stroke me, pet me and tell me your not leaving. 
Tell my heart that doesn't believe. 
That is leaving another to run to you. 
Tell my betrayal that family is not everything. 
That I can grow to know you there like the earth under my feet, 
like I knew he was there. 
Never doubting that he loved me more than any other thing. 
How can I not doubt when I know I am planted on you in this life like a new seed, a young sprout. 
And so much can go wrong the first seasons. 
Drought, soggy soil. Forgetfulness. 
Weeds like trouble crowding out, chocking a young vine. 
In the magic garden that the good and bad witches planted. 
they bestowed their gifts and curses upon us. 
The gates are guarded. 
The treachery of creation. 
all the signs are there. 
The music is there. 
The end is understood. 
For every blessing we trade in a coin  
A hoard of pain backs all the magic. 
All the tell tale sighs.  
Red dog, black cat. Spires of smoke.  
Cathedrals of hope. 
Fields of red poppies. 
Rivers of relief and motes of rage. 
Guiding stars and missed signs. 
traded my soul for the gift of life to flow through me. 
I gave my heart to the earth that does not care about you of me but will make a deal over and over. 
Letting us pretend we have power and control. 
Pretend you are the magic one. 
In darknesses magic garden you were born out of a flower. 
And I saw it. 
I dreamed of its silky Petals
and i picked it

For my stoic dreamer

Sometimes I'm not sure if we are just having a little walk
a journey through the woods
or a trek to the end of the lands.

Will I some day be plain to you?
simple
like
yes there life bread chewing
eating, shitting
smiling, dying
everything nothing
ok forgotten and remembered?

Sometimes
I wonder if we will make it to 
the day I both look forward to
and fear.
The day
when our love will be like the earth
the soil.
Unexciting
ever present
steady
there.
Ready to accept
gentle showers
and hard rains
the droughts
the sunshine
the seeds
the dropped rotten fruit
and the shells of dead bodies.
After all our dreams have either come to fruition,
planted new growth
or fallen like brown leaves to decay on the bottom of a lake.
Ready to withstand the cold stark long winters
to celebrate the glorious rebirth of spring
and the full bountiful lush sensual summer
open to the beautiful melancholy turn of fall.
The day I will be with you
like nothing
like your own eyes
wormed into your heart
your chest
like a parasite
living in your flesh
eating you
and feeding you
forgotten
taken for granted
dusted in your shirt
smudged on your face
flowing through your veins
The day you will feed me
like you feed yourself.

I have been with my cat when she died,
I have listened to stories of loved ones dying
and I wonder if after years of feeling your spirit soar when we make love
I will finely be there with you and feel your spirit float out of your body one last time
or if you will be with me when mine leaves
or if when that happens
it will have been years
since we lay together
since we looked in each others eyes
and we will just be deep fond memories to each other.
Or if when we die 
our souls will meet
again
up somewhere in the sky
in the stars
a reunion.

I have danced already with you
on your skin, and felt
like I was a star
floating
knowing
truth.
knowing I love you with all my heart
I am everything and nothing
I am lost
and it is all so right
so exciting
and dull
so long
and short
and
unknown

but for now
I feel
you are with me
beside me
and I am grateful



Thursday, January 25, 2018

surprise

maybe gods name should be oh...

A poem
for wishing i had new words to slide around
and give to your head
and your sinewy body and fingers to dance to
to watch your lizard form
tense
ready to pounce
relax in surprise
and delight
to get high on
wanting so to be high with you
high on your touch
high on your warmth
on you warm inside me
high on your strangness
and your rightness

Surprised
oh there it is
the spark on god was inside me
and you touched it
ignited it
just like two sticks rubbing together make fire
with the right rhythm
friction
tention
with the right tilt
right pressure
right materials
right stick and base board
cedar or basswood or pussy
ironwood hand hold
tool

and why baby
why i say baby
oh baby
then
I only say oh
when all the truths of the words i tried to form
escape from my open mouth
flow out of my mouth in silence
in nothing but breath
and its all caught
as it drifts up towards the sky
all the orgasms ever had
from the first explosions of stars
there is no word
for what i want to say
but oh












shit

Before, when all the ideas were grand, when the music was swelling and I could see my smile shining on your face.
When every inch of your skin was a silky land, unexplored.  when we scooped up shinny gems like snow flakes that fell from the sky.
Before my bicycle tire was frozen in the snow and the chain rusted.
Before I looked up at the sky and saw endlessness.
Before, when the intricate branches against the pastel sky were lace not just sad perfect shapes. Before the uncaring beauty settled into my heart and I saw how little I meant
How my small sadness would never end
Before I dropped my jar of hope on the hard sidewalk
And I helplessly watched the contents spread,
and soak into the cracks.
Before the laptop was broken, the cheap batteries dead,
My toes cold and my kid sick.
Before all the food that was left was bland and tasteless
But now the fight is almost over
We are loosing
And my faith that we can smile at the sunset is diminished.

No hunger here
No low or high
No cravings or urges to bite
No more desire
The sheets are dirty and ripped
No reason to fix or fight
Or clean
All that I would protect
Is doomed
Is numb
A moving frame in a distant box
Because I do not have another tear
I can't carry another scream.
I don't  want to join another
Any other
I am the waking dead
The crumbling human
I am the dry brown leaf
Waiting to be stepped on
Flattened, crushed under your shoe
Buried under the shit of stars smeared on the bottom of your boot.

If you say the world is shit
I may slide on it towards you
Or away
I may go sledding down a mountain of shit
I may slip
Loose my grip
Trying to scramble back up the loose stinking mess
sliding backwards
Nothing to hold onto that stays
That is sturdy
To help me reach you
I might grab a handful of it
and throw it at you
Hit you in the face
If that's what you believe
If I pick up a bucket full of sunshine and pour it over you and you believe it's shit
It might stink to you. Soak you, coat you
And would I, could I, lick you off?
Or leave you alone to wallow in the sty?
Grope your own way out?
Would I play mud pies with you?
Forget the smell with you?
Make cob bricks?
Build a warm cabin?
Or just sit down in my own pile and weep at the hopeless mess we are in?

Did you know before you were born what you were choosing?
Because you believe in something bigger
But I don't
I only believe in you and me
And now
And the long painful expanse of history
The slow swelling and dying of the universe
The dying sun
The lonely dog
The stories of love and torture
And neglect
I only believe in your body
And mine
And the bed you made
the soft sheets spread under us, over us, the warmth from the heater, the glass in the window 
and the cold outside.
I only believe in snowflakes and broken hearts and creamy yogurt.
The crazy mix of fresh water, childrens laughter and clogged pipes.
I only believe in gifts and rape
And dull pencils
Regret and joy and ripe apples
I know nothing of after life or meaning
Or gods in the sky.
And though I may dream of angels and fairies and golden spirits they are nothing to sun beams, weaker than the shadow of volcanos that were flattened millions of years ago.
And I would trade every God, all the blessings and kisses of all the angels, for your skin,
I would trade it all to touch and see
your face
smeared with sweat and pain and dirt
and the sweet real shit of earth and to tell you it is beautiful
and have you believe me.

1.81 GB (12%) of 15 GB used

Stars

If mother earth is our mother than the stars are our great ancestors

Stars
if the stars could talk
and tell you their story
how they dreamed their whole lives of you
and me
how they cried, craved to give birth
how they had to break away from their own mothers
to leave
the womb themselves
in a fiery of pain and fly out into the emptiness of space
how they understand
that we are all lonely.
Oh beautiful blue stars
crying stars
turning stars in my belly
hungry to drink your cum
and pull it in
again and again
to send us back to their dreams
to create us
to be with us again
to dance with us in our shudders
and break out of us in our screams
to let us see them again
feel their souls
and know they are with us
they miss us.
Oh sad stars
we have gone so far from you
how hard we try to waltz back
to you
to see you
to make new life
as we fight crumbling back into the rocks of you.
We eat your fire
we bask in your heat
and yet feel you have forsaken us
what a tragedy
our predicament
to be so close
and to feel always
so far away






Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Low Standards

Thought that maybe my standards have been low. 
That to make it through a day alive, without giving up 
is a success. 
To make it through a day without being weighted down by anxiety or regret is sometimes a feat. 
That to stop in the day and see the sun and feel it on your skin is the biggest win there is. 
That to spend a day not selling lies or shit, 
not feeling like you are owned is about as free as you can get. 
That there is no greater good than to share a real hug or sit with someone while they cry. 
No greater good than to cherish a sprout or see glory in a small beautiful thing. 
Maybe I have seen myself as a cat and all I was designed to do is loaf through this life 
beautiful and warm, 
sleepy, bored and interested 
until a threat makes me jump to defend my turf, my place to nap 
and then when safe 
curl back up. 
Maybe my standards are low like the soil and earth 
and your perfect body laying down next to mine. 
low like us laying together, 
pulled down towards the core of our lost heavy little planet, 
floating in space.

Monday, December 11, 2017

Your eyes

Your eyes
so dark and open
wide open
but some how glassed over to me too
crowned with your wild white hair
disheveled
flaming out from you head
and i see
you seeing
death coming
walking in slow motion
into our lives
entering
preparing to open the window wider
getting ready to steal you away
through the window, the door
you are about to be pulled
out
to the world we don't know
so clearly you understand more than i do
the mystery
but i can feel the texture of it with your gaze
oh great wonder
ready yourself
for if death is as beautiful as you
she is perfect