Made in India

up/down/side/through-grade

2011-01-21T10:01:00.000-08:00

will now be publishing through here:
http://farynbethhartxoxo.wordpress.com/

won't you come along?

cough man

2011-01-20T11:14:00.000-08:00

seams unstrung stringing sing song on a
duke ellington juke
while darjeeling bitter steeps on the marble
table tops of gypsy jazz
and crayon colors whip gem green dough
from double stitch skinnies -
no foam.

SEVEN droogs scanning top to tale
seesaw tripping the free bin suffice.
who's jock sharp enough to buy an honest coffee
grown some place in the shade
by some singer with a name
dragging paddi rice through neon fields
stead'a dropping the month's on sun shades?

everyone is no good, false fake too busy
and the head chisels in this kfc frenzy.
the FOURTEEN will get you where you need to be
and back again
(with a torn orange transit this month)
banking on catching a drowning jumper
that cannot pay.

the green man chirps and the dogs waddle
their wares; on the rocks;
on someone else's block, who got famous here
and wrote a book about it
another book for the kaleidoscope shelves
begging for the top of THREE minutes
just to find something you may not be looking for.

the tip tap typers sit in their roasteries
thumb tacked dot to dot on the map of the world
squinting hours eating away as they crave create
the future
with a pinch of hing and apple cider vinegar
and tweed duffel bags that find their ways into
international sleepercar crevices.

the day will come and has come when we will
stand on the mountain, the silver mount zion
(tra-la-la),
and not double back at the copper penny scatter.
with finger snaps the pastries will order
along driftwood park benches overlooking cities
we begin to claim.

scatter like pennies that no one picks up
but we turn, heads up,
to grant some sort of hoorah-la to the not in a hurry.
monocle maniacal monarchs
we spread like fiery sparks to cover boundaries
pounding with carrion. we pray on prey on prayer
wayfarers.

2011-01-20T10:53:00.000-08:00

afraid somehow of the again. letting the hub dub bobby nothings scratch at my decisions as if someone else is dying and i have fuck all will to save them. this light is out: along rav's strings, along gav's rows of vitamins waiting for the ferry to slow down, pull in, tie up...stop!

marsh

2011-01-20T10:49:00.000-08:00

in a place such as this
you spend the days capturing
egrets
white crested
that search for food in the low tide.
you wonder about your mind
and how it doesnt stop wandering.
you wait as you gather snippets from the hovering collective
and you stay sane by watching the sunset -
by remembering why you are here

curling chess men

2011-01-14T18:38:00.000-08:00

the chai is simply to watch them
four bucks for a steaming edge
or after hour divorce

the city grabs me visceral
holding in on a ferry ticket swipe
and a typewriter too big for its age

all from somewhere and then here
we are no where
and the head swivel pounds

amounts and cigarette butts
and artists wasting acrylic
in alley galleries

dubious

missive missed connections
on a bicycle riding fast in the fire lane

and adidas carry bags left for cold
in mission foyers
on community funding

where are you friends
so we can ride these streets
on sung stories

and photograph minutes that choke
and climb up trees and telephone polls
to hear just what the world is saying

roastery

2011-01-07T18:31:00.000-08:00

so much hulla-buz

the pastry girl
flirting with the customer
one extra dollar
one less muffin

one more plaid flannel
even in fairfax.

my books are stained with black tea
and his whistle as he watches them
romance
over the fair trade sumatrian

like any hairsprayed number
star-crossed
i never thought it could be real
even in fairfax

waiting for bus 29

some fix at screens
some in politics
some over toddies
and some too much cream

i'll be late
he'll be waiting

sioux falls

2011-01-05T20:52:00.001-08:00

“We are told we’re never supposed to understand Wankan Tanka, only to gaze at its infinite perplexity.”

the perfect shadow

2011-01-05T18:51:00.000-08:00

i feel the scraping sound of velcro
and turning stomachs
ricocheting off the walls
like flatulence at a cocktail party
or a monocle in the ghetto.
i am here like i own here
and can press any buttons i want.
the streets are all lined for me and the lights turn
as i ride
the questions have already been answered
and my shadow looks blustery

lo siento, i am a

2011-01-03T11:21:00.000-08:00

thank you sir for cutting my hands off
right all the way up to the elbows
so that you can feed me the food
that your shiny machine makes
as it hums in its monodance

and for giving me all the time i need
to comb my hair and brush my teeth
and wait in concrete jams
so that i can click away at air conditioned files
that somehow equal my living.

thank you for bottling my escapes
so crisp and potently
and for making sure that someone will tell me
what youve been up to all day
on a flashing blue box on my 'sierra night' wall.

i am grateful for your warranties that are so spot on
about when i'll have to come in and buy a new one
and for lending me money if i am not ready to afford
on my own.
such compassion.

it's ingenious to ensure i get my veggies
in liquid forms
but cutting out all that unnecessary sugar
that could make me FAT.
so affordable.

one day i'll tell my greatest grandchildren
just how you looked after me
and how in my day we could go to the movies
with $30 and come home with change.
long live mama gaia.

zachor

2011-01-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

1-1-11

i have one candle; two commandments
and the window is a night mirror
waving in breath
everything is labeled with a line
of masking tape
and the words, predicted
in my loose curl type
i want to get out of habit
and become nothing
predicted
conceived
- able
dangling
the ledge to drop just fine

this water outside, salt red,
charts every pumping i will to touch, hold, held
where you are, where you distinguish
this reaches to you, into you
metabolizing, anesthetizing

tonight is different from every other night
that. has never been.

"from the depths of the mirror a corpse was contemplating me"

snow

2010-12-14T17:07:00.000-08:00

the branches like eclairs holding tufts of white morning
screech as they move in the dry wind that laps at your freckles
nothing has walked on the lake but cats and deer
and the iodine os frozen

the earth is green and crunched under this sleeping
and my body is ready to move in the air

these words came when i saw it
the pointed finger nail ice dripping from the pipe
the welcome sign laced with night
and here they are fermented

december

2010-12-05T20:06:00.001-08:00

there is nothing on my mind else much now but the crystals that are falling from the sky.

there are fluffy crystals that are falling from the sky and they then become fluffy crystals on my hair

i see you standing in front of me with the eerie night porch light and looking into my eyes and the accumulating white and then closer, kissing, cold lips that become fill, pulsing, warm with love

seventy five, forty five, 178-180

2010-11-27T22:11:00.000-08:00

the winding roads welcome
and the dust leaves crawl across the tar like small creature
spirits
watching your turn

i feel i would hit something
like boxes and solo cups
strewn
as i watch the moon

hover
like a tan chrome
swirled bowl
hand-painted

in this calm
i change the world
and we circle round each other
as we had to from our conception

and august will be a month to keep.

ive always written on this night

2010-11-25T19:25:00.000-08:00

the house, my home smelled of sauteing shallots from midday
and wine, cooking
and ideas inspired
my toes froze in my socks up and down the stairs to fetch ingredients
and it came together somehow as it does
cabbage pockets and wild rice delicata
pie and soup and winter greens spicy

and no drama, no appetizers
life stories and intentions
and dishes washed as we go

the compost buckets filling all our waste
and the oven gas on high
swinging creaking in and out
in and out as the time creaks

and the smells linger in the kitchen
and we tour and we circle and we hold hands
and we gratitude

and we fill our plates as high as we think they can bleed
with everything tender and fresh
and cooked by you, by me, from my hands to my your plate

no tins

and we sit on the floor and we speak of books
and intuition
and what we think of the days
and the snow

and we eat pie because we cant not
and we play
and have no problem needing to go to bed
and there isnt much to clean

and there are no hospitals
nor tables
and it is the greatest ever.

wooded lev

2010-11-10T20:14:00.000-08:00

i have never felt you like today on my cold numb hands
where your traveling branches meet your trunk
the width of your rounds, your wrinkled bark
how a dying leaf feels cool and crackly ridged in my maze
and how the moss is fluff green with life even in this climbing freeze
of rock and of grass you are so unequally dense, distinguished
and then your tree breaks into a warm, coved gap
a haven, ah!
ridges round you are and roots curved, thinning
the ground parts and i smell the forgotten earth scent again
and then as i gather leaves and place my nose in the furry moss at your base there is a sort of horse radish and cool rain in my nostrils.
a tiny bus yellow fungus, formed like i could never misname
and again, spicy dirt
in this silent exploration are my prayers of awe
the unformed words of this glory and beauty grace.
who do i thank if not i for this embrace, this holding
my eyes are closed and yet i absorb every creation in this moment
every bit of that which i am and that which isnt and this meditative connection with the ground with this misted morning is the return of my soul to this place of experience. i can only take these
moments into the unfolding day of doing as a founded yes
a grounded alignment of one

liberation identity

2010-11-10T19:42:00.000-08:00

i am: a child of the earth in this moment and can choose where i want to spend my time because i come from a straight success that was destroyed. i could sleep in multiple stars just for one night or with the man rolling his possessions in a cart through the park. i can choose and i am not sure why.

lev

2010-11-10T19:39:00.000-08:00

the trees have been winter grey
and the ground crunches in early morning chore
what is still here, what has not fallen and decomposed
is what carries me as i have chosen or have surrendered
still in my mind, unstill is the you that will, the dream that only faith can unfold
the linger of a once truth that drove me to this moment
and i call screaming like a ewe in labor to a nothing
that answers in perceived symbol and assumption
the to be or not so is growing slowly at my walls
as if there is some thing greener at its other
and i hear to listen, i read, i tell and there is noise too much to decipher the whispers

2010-11-10T09:08:00.001-08:00

and lying hidden discarded partially
kept in someone elses space
stuff, stuffing, stuffed

nvc

2010-11-10T09:07:00.000-08:00

what has the morning brought
again the day, the oranges
the eyes that beg me for a truth
and a belly hungry for yes
and in this well of potential
it is as nothing else ever existed and this is my day
to be everything i ever wanted to be.

my eyes closed i am on the moon
or in your arms
and the day yawns with our music
here we sit like seedlings, flowers
ready to breathe, to rock to cry
to forget and jolt back into the perfection of the dream
we will always wake up from another dream
and pretend to fly until we can remember how
until we soar please plant with me and remind me
and stretch with me to the sun: she gives, she is only to give

and with this heat, the moving making head
we can perform our miracles. like wizards with gems
and swirl the sparks that lie hidden and vibrating
pluck these strings and we will make the sweetest song

let me hear your voice. it comes from the place that i am
and only from here
from the essence space
can we be in the divine, together, dance

2010-11-10T09:01:00.001-08:00

all these thoughts to paper. for what?
one is. the tea tells me. the soup does.
and the earth releases from the cracks in my hands.

sateity

2010-11-10T09:00:00.000-08:00

and i found it again like my laugh
knowing when it was present, when it had passed
and knowing from a cushioned box of safety
what and what not

this is my song
the packets rustling cutlery scraping
to horror eyes and running sprinting mind
how can i contain this?

the recall is reddening - cheeks heart fire
it surfaces like bile and devalues my truth
the resistance, the freedom is mezmerizing
will he stay with me always?

2010-10-23T14:51:00.000-07:00

tell me how to be good again and tell me how it feels when it isnt because i cannot know the world through my eyes. my eyes that hunger and maniacal hands that wash you aside.
i asked her how he died

did he swallow toxin to poison his life from the inside. did he explode his head to quiet the nagging nefarious voices. did he gas slit electrocute or fly from a window soaring in the city's polluted breath?
his windows were left waving, a record turning and pennies scattered the streets drenched in his blood.

they miss him. his mind and his smell. and his purity.
he was their light.
and so he plunged in crazed disorientation in search of himself.
i feel his doubt at the ledge
the quivering in his final notes
and his accounts closing

i feel the wind in my hair and the irreversible freedom.

the pennies rolled a block away.

ten of feathers

2010-10-23T14:45:00.000-07:00

it is the bleeding eyes, rouged, that lure a calling, craving
deserted wanderer to a new light
and from this heated anxiousness
no warn heeded
he will lift, fed and free, like icarus from his suffering island
the feathers of flight mock in their weightlessness
at the plunge into darkness
and they slowly traverse like the autumn leaves
to create a soft bedding around the fallen hero
what is it then from this space of blood and cracked earth
that will rise the phoenix
to turn again to the burning sun
again with the ten or the seven or the thirty two points
lined to precision
from this space of failure
i will meet you in the earth. in the carrion composing dirt
and we will rock and tear
and scream the venom away
and hover ever so lightly
with regathered feathers
treading lightly.

swollen doors

2010-10-20T16:17:00.000-07:00

and in the moment of quiet
of the first taste of the day
i think nothing but to hear you
and how you love me
and to struggle to put into syntax how my body tingles
when i think you

and then
what with this
when i am lifting shovels full of dead earth
and wish to see the sun setting every evening for ever
and your voice fills my head with dislocated pining
there and not

and following you into eternity
as we have danced for eons
the fruit chasing eve
and the banishment from green
i cannot not
if this is all i ever am

and winter beckons
and my empty pillow
and the blood from my sweating hands
and the dragging hope
dust
the doors swell in the cold

torrington

2010-10-11T05:22:00.000-07:00

i would scout here for the set of our movie
so trees. changing, will line the blue sky
and every pedestrian would know how to get
to where you need to go
with secret view stops on the way
and as the season comes for the first time in two years
the pit hollow in my guts wants nothing alone
wants warmth and dreams of your breath

triggers with miriam

2010-10-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

there is within dark
and carmine violet
and this is all i truly own
in a bedroom size storage unit.
type in your word and webs will load
purging years of history
i am here
listening the heating breath
and the voice rising from her cauldron
i hear --
and descend into my heat
like hades losing his harp

solid at room temperature ii

2010-10-05T20:11:00.000-07:00

what do i have to say today that i haven't said before
so let me make a list of my future
my mind map countdown red button shivering
and come back to the autumn
to the cover crop and afternoon drizzling
and the greening abouting to replenish
i am ready and i am always
waiting for the curtains
and drifting center stage for the call of the hawk

and they tell me you're a messenger
that you sing like an angel
like you're insane
and do i take this
or do i sit with your eyes and melodize our meeting truth
like it is it will be like it has always

and the nights get longer and darker
as the rope taut tightens toward you
counting like an ascension into the mountains
for a flame
for this very now.

swollen seconds

2010-09-16T04:50:00.000-07:00

this line can take us to anywhere
and his is he first time i have remembered you
in that i need to less, these days
uncertain: potential unfolding
across national, emotional, dimensional lines

sit up straight and be quiet
listen listen yes to the vibrating fearlessness
to the snap of your eyes

trees and peaches

2010-09-16T04:48:00.000-07:00

still and wanting, heart removed
beating through your stomach, birthed in blood
drooling dripping through dampened laundry

this is reflected off of photographs
birthed in blood
and signing autographs for twinkled eyes

oval yang

2010-08-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

and when the night comes
who do you become
where are you called
and what craves in the still?
the lunar-nescence pulls
and strips across the sky call for embrace
a gasp and a telling.

god waits for your questions and amazement,
and slowly sips on a glass of wine,
knitting winter's wares.

boxes blare blue to keep us quiet
and the wood pulses with night eyes
hungry and hidden

the mind will draw pictures for you
until you understand

and here i lie waiting, restless
your smell no longer lingers
memories blur
and the waiting worthy

navy dampens the sheets

swallowing silence

2010-08-28T10:35:00.000-07:00

i was in the kitchen stirring dinner
it doesnt matter what i was cooking

he was tripping on a concoction of lsd and mushrooms
maybe not mushrooms

and staring at a poster of john lennon
for over half an hour

he mumbled: man that's me
and stumbled out of the room

i have found this in silence
and in knowing you

job hunting

2010-08-26T11:07:00.000-07:00

and a job is?
to pick up someone's mess that they havent been able to manage
ive smoked all my life...dying of emphysema. save me doc
no time for the kids. watch them...no sugar after six
i dont want to be outside, too many good shows...here a twenty, mow my lawn
wash my car, grow my food, help me relax, entertain me

well, fuck you

i'll pay myself to take care of my own mess

and thank you very much for your time

yours is the earth and everything that's in it

2010-08-26T10:54:00.000-07:00

if i am off when you are on
and i am on when you are off
will we ever meet or simply wait forever
till we coincide

where are we safe / what must we hear?

2010-08-23T15:58:00.000-07:00

i have never heard you yell like this
so close
so blistering
and constant thud thuddering on our palettes
like celebrity
constant capture
creatures hiding
rolling unfolds into far
but here, here it is so electric
my heart pounds electric
and i have never heard you yell like this before

entrance road

2010-08-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

i wonder if the fox sees what is there
the trees wiggling in a rain-filled pothole puddle
the falling leaves, reds and yellows
strips of sun, like god, in rays

if he hears the birds or the drowning engines
or my footsteps coming up behind him
my gasp at his greyness, his mustard brown

does he smile at the grey mushrooms springing up between the planks
or squinch when he stubs his toe on a bridged root

does he know that this is all his?

parking lots and capos

2010-08-18T08:51:00.000-07:00

the two: one slick, slim, ice-tea
two potted, pepsi'ed
swinging keys, slow parting
sparking engines and away
in opposites
into the shuddering night, navy
sixth fret.
thinking in their own worlds
creating prisms in each other's
like a photograph
in sepia
referenced in loneliness.
the rhythm changes -
lyrics blur -
the sighs carry large bits of worry
and perfection into the summer night
everything lies potential
and thoughts, murmured, regretful
pull the stage into single-file packages.
the city sleep at dark
the lot buzzes

glynn

2010-08-11T21:12:00.000-07:00

paper or plastic
as if either choice isnt wiping a green somewhere
unpronounceable

it's appetizing and the mind wins with this
without any question of need

the line moves slowly
and i can think of nothing
nothing else but the time
tapping

morning

2010-08-09T07:03:00.000-07:00

and it is like you never were
you were
here you were
and we were
and the nights were fluore-scent and melodical
and never truly wanted to end

and it became closer closer as it does
when we play together
and then it is like you never were

and it is morning
and the space is empty
and plugs rip through my soaked-sweat tshirt

how am i?

2010-08-05T10:26:00.000-07:00

in response:

well, im reading a lot about god, and it hasnt rained in weeks here. my heart is much stronger, and im eating as well and as full as i can. ive met such nice boys and girls who are brilliant and play all sorts of things and make me laugh and cry but i wont see them after three days. im wearing skirts and i hope im praying. i think a lot and ive learned so much, too much, that i hope is relative and that sticks and stays and plays out. i'll be glad to see this follow me. i am so grateful, knowing, giving thanks, learning the balances of love. i hope this helps...tag youre it.

taste the rainbow

2010-08-05T10:07:00.000-07:00

you think youre hiding
but i can see you filling your mouth
with the rubbish of our generation.
reds and yellows and beetle shells
and i love you behind the flowing shirt
and your soft eyes
and the frothy drinks that coat your thoughts

i love you and i see you in everything
mystic magic master
rider of song with me in this truth

let us eat together and watch the sliding of abundance
into our gullets to recreate the light that we are

i wake up and think only this

dream of wonderful things

2010-08-03T17:04:00.000-07:00

this is for you to read
before you go to bed some times
in the crickets and the moonlight
depending how far we are
and for stanley meyer
who did what we dream
with water, water!
and the water sea across a rift in time
and ive spoken of this before.

stop.

and again the fire that moves when you are there
with them and they see your smile and hear your epiphany
and your twirling curling lippage
that mine miss so, so!
and you hear me crying 83 miles across the savannah
at midnight
and deep sigh we have chosen this intensity
we are insane, beautiful, lovage
conglomerate of everything we've ever known and which we bring
to the table - a round table made of wood
that you built and i painted
and children
we will be the children.

two bears holding hands

2010-08-01T16:08:00.000-07:00

the future feels sweet as it does in its syrupy masochistic sadism. ah, it is lovely playing with the powers of pre-manifest. it could be anything, goddamn it, anything, and the genius who understands this are either lost in a list of the insane or are driving themselves to hell being driven in the streets of the city purgatory.

help me make this into a song, we'll never get out of our heads, our heads, pillowed, staring depths into the worlds of eyes upon eyes, clear glistened.

what do we need? let us re-ask ourselves this every moment of every moment of every moment of every day - challenging our egos to nothingness

what else is there? there is a perceived dire hunger but we are stewads, genius, magicians, warriors

and what else?
really.

its the revolution...watch it unfold amigo
with this hope
and others of pure

2010-08-01T16:04:00.001-07:00

who have we decided to be in this life: happy magicians of a putrid unfolding destined to admit that the trees dance and we are nothing but the imagination of an extremely glossed ventriloquist.

if i know nothing other than the wind then i have wealth and will share this gold wih every wanderer
suit laden smoke, decaffeinated, i love you so much that i run from you so far into the forest that the dandelions have forgotten my scent.
this is the music we play and it is our string symphony taking the world to sleep. did you know that nothing else exists and that is the secret. period.

typed

2010-08-01T16:01:00.000-07:00

love is all i have
and that is it
recycled intention
with your names scribbled
thinking in such gratitude
always
and this love is everything
and i intend it to take me
everywhere as it does
and i will make paper
and send letters home
saying thank you and telling
of the love that i have found
because i am an explorer
with land always in sight
more love always to plant
more fruits always to rift
to send love in letters of gratitude

xoxo

fraggle

2010-08-01T15:58:00.001-07:00

twine turning trying to be where i should
shattering glass of pennies, the winding wound

all i can think is that i wish to bring you here
here with you
without the drunken, cracked stupor

this place takes me over
butterflies upon butterflies
there is something here
like anything there is something
but we have chosen THIS now

1927

2010-08-01T15:56:00.000-07:00

the hallway streams like a mirror's opposite
red velvet, hidden cockroaches
and a three-fifteen that won't unlock

nothing
but a bed, window unit
i unplug the television
the toilet bruises my knees
the shower hums

the graveyard smile should be watching cartoons
and wearing thick rimmed, thick-prescribed glasses

my music sounds thud hollow against the white wash
and the ceiling bores me

silence - long lost, friend.

dramama

2010-07-17T08:58:00.000-07:00

roar
green turns writhing into black
swirling like a cheesecake
tumbling through the esophagus.
contract
hide your light you faker

and from this we are spent
and in the white find the cream
drip dribble

the rocker rocks
and sways my mother's lullaby
the rocker rocks
and spits his sweat to the scream
choose your peace

man-age-meant

2010-07-09T16:27:00.000-07:00

what changes when you must tell people how it must be
what you want it to look like? expect
a stern control
a light guidance
she calls she answers
she is magic in the illusion
be as i if i am god
what i need i know
and the tantric enjoyment
throws shadows in the wind.
it is nothing to cover
the monkey the buddha
the eyes, the ears, mouth
it is the flow through with sight, sound, immersion
allowed

2010-07-09T16:14:00.000-07:00

feel it so strong, so strong. only i can have it. have it, so strong
and where it goes, i shall know, no, now, so strong
get me out, out of this play, i star, starry, play
if i want then you must but calls and answers are lost in the winds
eina
i cant be there, i wont be, feel not this discomfort my child
tip tap type tells of toils one two three out is it
when it is right, write
when is it ever right know
before whom standing face on, face off, through which i bid these dues
like morning dews, screaming to drip onto the soil to drink to drink
and drunk with this breath we will blend like droplet in the ocean
ONE
ONCE
TWO THREE

sipping through slipping veins drunk like the roses on cocaine
drink and you shall be fed
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

its loose

well, the kid slept till ten

2010-07-03T08:29:00.000-07:00

i asked her if she slept well
she walked, bowed, to the lake
they ran ahead
their pink tards swift through the trees

this isnt very promising
when you fly alone
your baby asleep
when you start drinking at twelve
your daughters wild

be fruitful. yessir
i will bear fruits every day
rising blessing planting celebrating
i will rear peace

i will buy osh kosh begosh overalls
and coo
i will stretch, mark
and impart what i know
and i will not kill

i am a womb
this is all i am
and you are a seed
and this is all
we evolve, survival-centric

where do the introverts go?

2010-07-02T10:33:00.000-07:00

we fold inward
longing through train car windows
at the balloons and how the wind takes them
at the bellies licking ice-cream and how the age takes me.

there seems always a window to look through
and there is no need to feel violated, stripped by our eyes
they are just windows and thoughts are such
and we are just collecting notes for our novels
and honor you for being the innocent postman

policecars should be convertable

2010-07-02T09:53:00.000-07:00

perhaps they'd enjoy their jobs a little more
and we'd envy them instead of fear them
more eye rolling i would imagine

but police hair flowing in the wind
ah theyd be pleasant
and there'd be a reason for hiding shades

if youre a policeman and youre reading this
you should suggest it to your sheriff
and i want to say thank you
thank you for keeping us
safe

let us stand. the mirror

2010-06-29T04:48:00.000-07:00

(i have been thinking of writing you for a while. writing)

oh man you make my mind explode. my body ripple with the sweet sap of this forest. mmm hot and inspired sigh.
life around your waist. i lie at night. the moon, now, so strong, so pulling on my veins to you.
it is so wonderful
these messages, words with power that can change where i am to take me to being where with you would be.in dreams
it is so silly. so necessary. so?
all these questions we pose into the nether
do you read what you write
check it over
type, regurge, and hit send
just let it be read as it is in its pure streamed thought...

the mixed bag:
i think about this. about whether every experience has just slowly but surely whittled down to what is perfect, what resounds
either way
whether the chemical zaps are "real" or just pertinent to make now make sense i am ecstatic knowing that i am with you in this place we dance. the yellow-red world of circus charm. they recreate it in movies sometimes and i know that yes...that it is. that is where i dance. that is what it looks like when i see it, not simply feel it

what is our love filled with: emotional commitment to grow, to be in the front of our lives, fuck the fear, fuck the hiding. this is who i am and in you in this
ah in you
what magic

st peter. let us rule

we wait on the cliff as the moon rises in the morning with the sun. it is blue it blinds and there is holding here. we wait because we know if we move we will change this perfectly comfortable pleasurable space that.
when anyone moves i feel the walking like it is a cage in the moment.
when it is you i am excited to know you are about to approach where i am

chris your eyes
where are they
to see
to breath.
to strive to seek to find and not to yield
xoxo
fae jr.

writ

2010-06-27T10:23:00.000-07:00

as the channel will swerve thoughts to paper
writ, i write
but in this mound of viral virtual communication
i type
am i a typist or writer still?
my charms evolve in foreign, uniform script.

tweens in tight blue jeans and black;
girls watching, alone, on park benches
staring into the distant inspiration
for the next line.
it is off of reality that this canvas comes
recycled through scrutiny.

moleskins crinkle with last minute forget-me-nots;
envelopes lick the blessings of love
and vows are memorized, meaning frozen.
where do you put your vice?
this box is taped and inside writhes a fury
reptilian.

the road is sandy long and moments are too rich to not testify.
this is my vintage vehicle
and the juice must be such
the fumes are dark, oaky vanilla
with overtones of cracked sanity.
its wonderful to meet you.

broodiness

2010-06-25T08:18:00.000-07:00

eggs are being cracked, hatched all this time
all this time we are sizzling
frying up a starter

break

and then there is the chicken
feed me

the garden
water me

feed me; water

and taking gratitude dissipates in hunger
in a greed

thank you life
for the morning green
dew

giving gardens to wander
and ti color with seeds

seeds we are stewards

hear

busy ness

2010-06-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

maybe i'll get one of those electronic business cards
so that every time i decide i want to be something else
i can just update everyone's wallet

jerusalem if i forget you

2010-06-03T15:45:00.000-07:00

water swells awakening my breath
and i think how you are
where you are breathing your truth
into the rock, into the flutes of eden
and which ever way it is
it is perfect
and we shall dance in this light
across waters
and spill our cups into the hearts of others
am i listening
am i high
it is everywhere
and you whisper into my every day
more and less
and again
and your smile bright blue
in florid white
here
aye it will be and we will joy in this
i will not forget
as long as i remember.
past

dawn dust

2010-05-29T02:46:00.000-07:00

what animals sweep through the brush at this
what manics awake at their lights or their lust?
spartacus will see me thinking moving away
and will call to the morning like he knows only

everything is in its list
waits for its opportune time
brooding like the coming fourth:
the shower bleeds me dry

i howl at the moon
nesting grimm in her majestic vanity
fuck you
i lie alone

the sparks shimmer ferment
and scribbling i we whoever this is
stumbles through the illusion
like a adrenalined ballerina

strangers find me
save me save you
remind me there is no save to rescue
it will fall away; it will fall away

i have been awake for too long
asleep for too long
the sides of my eyes burn with kohl
let me drift

aye

2010-05-25T08:32:00.001-07:00

why do i want to call, to connect, looking for something in you.not wanted to drain you of your wonder offering but now, at this time, feeling a swirling of yuck
this is the feeling that haunts
that simmers, broods in its second coming
like a black west of last light (thank you g.m.hopkins)

maybe it is a break i need
nothing i need
myself i need
what really needs to change
to evolve
and why
fuck
why

and when isnt it
what is happening that it doesnt exist sometimes
how to be there
or be simply ok not being there
the drain, the drop

i am trying to snap out of it
just to be
yay it is all ok
and then i catch myself snapping
reacting to something too quickly
too rashly

i wouldnt otherwise
would i ?

thank you for the board
that all it is

no need to absorb
please dont absorb
please erase this message as soon as the words are passed over
letting their semantics brush over like an egg laying wash

i havent written, to you i write
i write in the poop log, or draw
nothing else comes
like your music famine
nothing
and in this space of creative nothingnes
i feel least myself
little myself
i cannot express but am simply reacting to the moment
what needs to be done
in the best way i can

the forest is good for me
bad for me
for me
for everyone

and it will sink in in a decade
if i am still a faryn then
and

uni-verse:one-song

2010-05-11T14:55:00.000-07:00

to be in this space
the choice to choose
to the sacred space
all sounds a part of the orchestra
to use the art as the vibrant cascading of divine breath
and i am that
with amnesia
forgotten to remember
to have the carnal primal ache
of sprite
sprouted from the size
inoculated
spiral

what is the plan
hear
be my mirror
my eyes to my soul
sole
allone
as feet walked
barefoot
barefeet
on a sand, warm grain and vast

the ness
of forgive
the tion
of evolve
the ing
of remember

is
i in this
allude illusion

watch the breeze
breath
of the song of one
exploded

happy happening happenstance

window eyes

2010-04-16T20:09:00.000-07:00

we'll talk, eyes, until we find that thing that we both do or both like or have a family member who did some research on that years ago, a good friend who is studying abroad there.
i dont watch tv, dont bring me that garbage
i havent listened to entire albums of musicians nor know the lyrics much
nor the opening line of their concert at woodstock
i grew up in the city, yo

dont try shivy in on crayons

do you remember that moment at the beach
it was late
and you picked me up in marvin
marvin the mercedes
and we just drove
and i think you knew where you wanted to take me
we drove over the bridge
you took me over the bridge and i never had been
my eyes turned up my breathing was
it was chilly
i was so warm

i told us to take the wrong turn but we got to the beach
and i lost my thoughts in the grey mindnight waves
and your story about water power, cars
your story
and you held me

and you held me

and i knew you were sad
trying not to think of the wound, bleeding
or healing i wasnt sure
and i didnt want to compensate for something
but i was so happy to be there
just there
with you. nothing else needed to be

and you kissed me and it was so perfect. under the city stars distant
the waves played some sort of rhythm and i melted into the crevices of us
and our blanket

and it mattered
and we made love
and shook the tides and chile flooded

but you held me and i felt held for the first time in my life
and didnt concern about self worries that you didnt really want to be holding me

you payed for the toll
and you took all the turns, all the detours i wanted
winding roads

and we made love
and it mattered
and shook the tides and chile flooded

breathing with her

2010-04-11T09:36:00.000-07:00

there is something in sustenance
sustainable
and the presence to keep that from drowning

can you imagine

drowning in abundance

a dance of bunnies?

where is the cut off the moment to remember
re-be

is it something that becomes second nature, first nature
just nature
natural

why do you want to know about me
why do i want to share this
myself
is this going to influence how you are
how i am
am i only because you are
or are you because i am

are we this bored

what would you do if you were alone
for so long
long enough
that you wouldnt lose your mind
but you would finally find it

are you really going to understand this
when you read it
if you really ever read it
are you reading
understanding
becoming a part of me
as i become you

who are we
quest

xoxo

cra-bun-din

2010-04-07T17:44:00.000-07:00

it is wild -
like a sister, ivy,
seven eight days
minutes
turned on to turn off
not fair
who's say
who has say over my life then
marinade me, fatten me up
to be satisfying for your hunger
brute.

immediate drop into a space of rut
after so long
it has been shuddering

one rabbit
gone
taking with it
my sense of center
your eyes
bunny
your quiver in my arms

welling

bunny

goodbye

sunflower sutra

2010-04-07T14:59:00.001-07:00

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and
sat down under the huge shade of a Southern
Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the
box house hills and cry.
Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron
pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts
of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, sur-
rounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of
machinery.
The oily water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun
sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that
stream, no hermit in those mounts, just our-
selves rheumy-eyed and hungover like old bums
on the riverbank, tired and wily.
Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray
shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting
dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust--
--I rushed up enchanted--it was my first sunflower,
memories of Blake--my visions--Harlem
and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes
Greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black
treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the
poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel
knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck
and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the
past--
and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset,
crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog
and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye--
corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like
a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face,
soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sun-
rays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried
wire spiderweb,
leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures
from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster
fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O
my soul, I loved you then!
The grime was no man's grime but death and human
locomotives,
all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad
skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black
mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuber-
ance of artificial worse-than-dirt--industrial--
modern--all that civilization spotting your
crazy golden crown--
and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless
eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the
home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar
bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards
of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely
tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what
more could I name, the smoked ashes of some
cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the
milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs
& sphincters of dynamos--all these
entangled in your mummied roots--and you there
standing before me in the sunset, all your glory
in your form!
A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent
lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye
to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited
grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden
monthly breeze!
How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your
grime, while you cursed the heavens of the rail-
road and your flower soul?
Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a
flower? when did you look at your skin and
decide you were an impotent dirty old locomo-
tive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and
shade of a once powerful mad American locomo-
tive?
You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a
sunflower!
And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me
not!
So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck
it at my side like a scepter,
and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack's soul
too, and anyone who'll listen,
--We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread
bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all
beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're bles-
sed by our own seed & golden hairy naked ac-
complishment-bodies growing into mad black
formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our
eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive
riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sit-
down vision.

Berkeley, 1955

an other

2010-03-23T09:09:00.000-07:00

another moment to back to here
to reap
and drink to lees.
another essence in its own light
swifting on ashen memory.
it will all be buried
and analyzed
and murdered
martyred as their god.

the muchness must be captured.

vialed in recycled jars
fermenting
ripening
and it will all change
as however it should
into and out of
the mud; the mud.

exodus' return
is freedom
is hollowed emotion
banked on sifened grey.

where do you feed?
when will it stop pouring
and the swarms hatch.

good morning.

21/02/08 (not for the sensitive)

2010-03-12T16:37:00.000-08:00

again i feel as if i want nothing to come further.i want pain to stop and so instead of changing the pain as i have attempted roller coastally i wish for it to end.
i feel overwhelmed and unwilling to give as i wish just yet.just now.
as the baby doesnt settle and i waste away the protective home i feel a failure perhaps that keeps my eyes watered.
i almost want to be in suffering just to feel something. some control.
this stress and discomfort is unbearable.
a twang at every comment. unearthing, traumatizing pain that writhes and reeks and is embarrassing critical.
it did not begin like this but becoming you i feel the abhorrence and let you shine in the presence of laid backness.
if this is not for me then what is, where is if not here, now?
will this ever be bearable, will there ever be situation that does not uncover years of unworthy, broken memories and moments.
how couold i have let this affect me but how not.
victim to me, willing surrender.
is it that i want to be taken care of, i want unconditional unbalance or is it that i am fed up with myself.
the moments of doubt are as omens are to steer me toward right toward center.
i know there is nothing wrong but my own insecurity to push for happiness.
if this exists is this a concept that keeps us working, in line, and a promise of eden
we have father, the guilt is innate and we drive in shame through unbearable times trying to find the snake to blend.
nothing, not food, not love, not money statisfies without distrust
only sun and sound and green and sway can give me the smile that is silence.
nothing is needed but that, ON MY TERMS.
i am stuck in a spiral cycle of performance and pleasing without going for what i want.
FUCK IT.
i dont want to kiss ass and resent the smell later.
i want to be her i want to be. no pressure.
no expectation. me and when i am ready i can summon external lore to my quarters to unite in physical fuck.
this is all that can be externally tangible.
i dont see anything else at this time.
i look forward in fear.
behind in regret and where does that put me now
in PMSal irritation.
in excuse
in heart palpitating pain
i want all. with change is new and exciting and dynamic life dance.
stop disappointing. stop pining, pinning, let me dance and be.
i dont want a twenty four seven partner now
i cant take the bruised toes
xoxo

jesus is, coming?

2010-03-08T17:56:00.000-08:00

mother, father, wake up brother.we wait in this red -- tree house -- room -- for you -- warm and smiling. the song will last for as long as you need it to take you to heaven: in dwelling presence of being. you need not understand, faith will come: let go to feel. this fall. into the infinite oblivion.

unlit birthday wish

2010-03-08T17:53:00.000-08:00

thursday sun buzzes like nothing,
in park and trees
children playground.
a wish is sent through digital photograph
and the heating of this moment will linger in album.
i am with you, in ears
and paint
and breath
and murmur
and spicy ginger tingle tummy
and collaborated magic.
our train comes in five minutes.
i am enamored -- dream-like dopamine.
don't tell me youre just just a chemical --
i want to tell you.
you turn and twist pleasure
i turn and twist
where are the cameras
kiss me until i forget again
lifted in why's and wherefore's?
because

selfish genes

2010-02-17T11:45:00.001-08:00

my mom planted lettuce last summer. her first crop and we got to harvest the most magnificent salads from september till december.
\her seed pods grew as they do and she had not collected and saved them so now there are lettuci pushing up through the bricks of her back yard and life has taken over
life will entropically...what the fuck are we doing messing with things

food not lawns!
om yum
xoxo

i just had to write something so i dont feel worthless

2010-02-07T22:19:00.001-08:00

something.

jake josef

2010-02-02T08:28:00.000-08:00

how would i do justice with your story, jake josef,
your borrowed bicycle, blue like your bruises;
your dimpled cheeks afraid to smile out of the hollow space you have chosen.
you understand your freedom, wise anarchist,
and your remind me of the possibilities of oscillation.
i need to stay with you only a moment --
your swirling whiskeyed minds reads things differently
from my momentary brilliance.
how you can see that this is simply a report of the seconds.
you wrote this, jake josef

Shefa Gold; Chochmat HaLev

2010-02-02T08:25:00.000-08:00

the bus so yellow -
a momentous reconnecting to a reality we are creating.
who is today? besides you in your cryptic annunciation:
living out of the question without needing to answer it
the word opens up a moment to moment mystery with the beloved
where there is permission, growth and therefore creativity.
there is importance to heal what is hidden,
asleep,
that is not able to be used to mend.
to be wise in love is to understand the timing.

human extraordinaire spirit james

2010-01-31T21:04:00.000-08:00

a wave from the middle of a green man street
you were shakti

a line of this of that, velvet and crystal
you were smiling

i stopped because everything else stopped
you were obliging

hesse, the dead, purple
you were sharing

and then my memory and some words
you were guiding

labelled as a list of wonder talents
you were boasting

newspaper and flowers, coloring the city
you were loving

project: walking with the gods

2010-01-31T20:46:00.000-08:00

concept: still to evolve somewhat. peace of art created from a spontaneous or sort out divine interaction every day. sharing sparks. mending. always laughing.

Afanasi, Roert Smyth, Steve

each has a name. it started on the steps.
in another universe. with no dawn coming.
then breakfast and a class to get to
on the ferry building clock's chime.
it was the orchid that kept me
and your photograph that drew me
and your voice of devil talk and peace possibility
and almonds, blue eyes, balloons
and rainbows
arching into the perfect crevice of being fed.
i kept making decisions of where to take us
they were perfect and seaweed sweet.
it felt purposeful like jasmine memories
and i stay out for as long as the day will have me
nothing ends as sweetly as it could than with a chai
steamed and rich
in a hostel selling peace
specificity brings untwinging attention
and tonight will be a night unlike any other

2010-01-28T21:16:00.000-08:00

THE CITY

i am sitting through the window
and the world repeats itself
bus eight passing every six minutes
as i unfold -- evolve -- slowly

THE FOREST

i am sitting on the wooden porch
and the world dances itself
the rooster calls every six minutes
as we unfold -- evolve -- slowly

heaven meeting earth

2010-01-28T21:13:00.003-08:00

lie on its back surrendering to the all
mighty three with legs calmly flailing in the air
is met by another mighty three, hovering
focusing downward descending
meeting: infinity

you didnt change my life

2010-01-28T21:12:00.001-08:00

and i apologize for not listening
and not fully giving you that honor.
you are a sage, divine

PAINTED POETRY

2010-01-28T21:11:00.000-08:00

FALL

into cover to recover
understanding the necessity of rest
but the active space of growth.
the grounds enflame with crackling tones of earth
and the rake screeches order.

insist on collection
knowing the imminent plateau.

there is no reason the fall --
of man; from grace --
would be unretributable.
apples grow all year
and the colder the frost; the sweeter the crisp

SUMMER

nothing else comes but the quenching of afternoon shower
the sky suddenly surrounded with wrung-grey cloud
the pavement streamed and puddles glimmering prism fuel

there is no reason to relocate the world of imagination
the water simply enhances the game
and the storm-wrecked pirates wave to the shore
with the rest of the flotsam
the tropical island jungle boasts luminous creatures
and hard shelled fruits

ice snaps as tea slides into crystal tumblers
and chairs rock, elongating scarves drawing to the veranda's wooden floor boards
there is a hum of music to this life

DISSOLVE

what is there can be so easily lost
needing a scent of balanced seeing --
for engraving but avoiding reliance.
everything will become yours
recorded in chemical compound
(with a popping sound)
and the choice becomes yours
to color the sound in light whiteness
(or say, beige and blue)"
or glum heaviness that has no color
but acidic callous
let it move

TWENTY SEVEN HOURS, NINE MINUTES, AND FORTY THREE SECONDS

i wrote of dawn
in a spring garden
in front of growing brussel sprouts
or was it cabbage?
but what of the dusk
the active transition into reds and purples
and yawning

when it is acceptable to waltz
into the worlds of thinned blood streams
and activated receptors
and sigh and bat
and forget the rigidity of the day?

oh, the gateway

BE-ING

tell me again that it is as it is
so i stop worrying that it isnt as it isnt
and perhaps for a moment
we will be together

SPIRALS INTO ORANGE

for everything, a season
for every being, another
for every rain, a bow
for every seeker, bliss to discover

numbers count in sequence
with hidden infinity between them
colors separate that which they do not possess
boundaries of oblivion

it doesnt end
this experience with no spectrum
it will always, simply, be
ad infinitum

2010-01-26T12:27:00.000-08:00

earth my body

and fire my spirit

air my breath

and water my blood

coffee and smokes; pipes and blintzes

2010-01-26T12:23:00.000-08:00

sleeping in you'll miss this morning:
the ones who havent slept and still want to speak about the world
the leaving ones in their absorptive urgency
the en-joyful ones refilling their coffee to side their bagels

and the magic that happens over cutting fruit
laughing the first movements of the day through

every man has his way

how do you say juice in italian?
or mandarin, or australian

teach me before you disappear forever
for that's an awfully long time.

dont take the lashes your father took

2010-01-23T12:21:00.000-08:00

we will be thrown opinion in every vat in this place
every pitch of sound will be advice on how
as is this, in green.

relent
be free, however that means to be

with love and luck
white tiger brothers and sisters

nice guy. 415-400-9493

2010-01-22T16:14:00.001-08:00

smiles like prizes,

you're a carnie today,

whose gesture entices,

hopes of more prizes to pay.

batting eyelashes,

and sky, knowing smiles,

coy unspoken dances,

which dropped for miles,

from giving heavens,

to fall in my favor,

like sevens and elevens,

its a smile to savor

cnr of green and columbus

my fares, lady?

2010-01-20T23:13:00.000-08:00

wish chants and lists of manifesting paradise are let to the wind
and the seasonings will marinate
i watch over my shoulder at every movement
reacting to some wagtail scent

to be shy is to watch grass valley panners
and teeth reddened as the crane lake empties.

your eyes tell me words i may be mistranslating
as your steed leaves each dusk without looking back
and i create a chapter that you are timid and sweet
and a busy busy man
lonesome lunches are pathetic but the slow mastication
expectation nestles satiety of some sort

key and chain

2010-01-20T23:09:00.000-08:00

a song i have written for you:

about tattoos i refuse to reveal
about every thought that changes expression
torn open

wondering if the surfacing is healing, or simply surfacing.
i could describe the room unfolding every night
your favorite peace drying out by the wood stove

this may writhe you. this is just my mind floating outward
responding, yes?

where is free will? in my honest smile and love for you
or in the unfolded reality that isnt as i planned.
is this your plan in your power, in your dreams?

how will i return to you what you say you give
what you want for me in this frigid world

this is your song, my gift, for your gifts
it will soothe soon and i will see it for what it is
not how i respond to it.

blessed be.

cement kings lovin motha earth

2010-01-20T23:03:00.000-08:00

the rains have brought wrappers and disintegrating tissue
to the steps
the broom is wet and in effect futile.
kaya ascends with me bending to scrape someone else's disregards from the pavement.
his red knitted beanie and crooked nose hold his smile.

he has been a patron of these streets for fifteen years

vernon keeps his heart company and shakes so tight
he could brake skin.

they fluff passing pets on leashes
and shiver-dance on Broadway until there is no one else to see

the do not starve. they smoke

playing god

2010-01-20T22:59:00.001-08:00

how easy it would be to jump - the edge so sweet
a destiny i will violate
when i want it sometime, inconspicuous

loading and unloading

2010-01-20T22:58:00.000-08:00

her hair was bleached strawberry
and her lips trembled.
vixen blazoned, tattooed across chest
and an eyebrow ring for bravery
her right eye swelled purple and her cornea shot blood

population 250

2010-01-20T22:56:00.000-08:00

speed boats, trailered, without their hubs
coat with crackled leaved and crushed earth.
a coffee joint. tavern. scattered post boxes:
it is a silent heaven in madrone leaves
white in the dark.
morning hazes over the mountains; fog;
and pines pierce the veranda view.
bottle bury along the path
and truck parts lay rusting until the summer.

the tip jar overflows with crystallized cash
and the gas hardware store keeps business.

sunday swells and pours clearing evidence

the folks will look you in the eye
and strum stairway to heaven on the guitar
while you sip on coffee and wonder the day.

the garden swirls hiding roaches

looking for theatre

2010-01-20T22:51:00.000-08:00

the city is cold on its own
colors link arms through every street
and the neon becomes normal.

beggars count their change for nuggets
and everyone has a job.
guitars are tuned and movies play till midnight.

sweet nothing come find me in the park
i am playing

it comes cross what is different here from anywhere else
the temporal tune keeps me hidden and new
i want to link eyes on the bus, on the street, the moon.
i keep porcelain

amphibian

2010-01-20T22:46:00.000-08:00

a red-nasal chef, adopted and repressed
with magical ideas of connection
sharpening his knives, giving up smoking
and his lost penny.
we cant remember his name dicing onions
waiting for the conversation to finish
hoping for life to start.
he disappears in the morning; my hangover remembers something

gregory jerks his umpteenth introduction
with a new paper doll each time: josefina likes to dance (his voice so sweet)
we swing her song about twinkling stars and falling bridges.
he speaks of maine and his journey in two years from now. now.

he will cry in excitement and smiles through rotting teeth.

we read about the boston fire from printed sheets
and he laughs anxiously.
his navy jacket hides him through holes.

who else is there to tell me stories?
look into my eyes for five minutes of my life
let me sleep through the night
and wear sweet perfume.

haight

2010-01-20T22:40:00.000-08:00

i saw you with the same newspaper i was reading but you were coloring it in, i was looking for a job. i heard you speaking french but you were angry.

the seniors meet in this thai place. i cant forget yellow corduroy, red velvet cap and striped rainbow sweater ordering the dish on the bottom item of the poster behind me.

im not there until he apologizes. he was there the moment i saw him or is this a game and am i waiting for you?

it is so colorful outside like topsy turvy school buses and fields of sunflowers. youre still reading the menu and walking across the street
watching the crepusculean sun rise through the city buildings

my neighbors dont care for the spinach in their teeth or their anxious habits: its easy to be paid for

what are you grateful for?

2010-01-20T22:34:00.000-08:00

abounding river meandering through my memory soup. the candle, light, is generous and i cannot help but feed from moment's ceremony. gifts and wonders stream smiling gingerly offering, teaching. here there are eyes cherishing, touching and trusting what is truly thankful but the receptive offering into infinite focus. how can i help you? this picturesque life continues to follow me into magical forest where lights are shining and burning life alive.

04-01-10

2010-01-20T22:27:00.000-08:00

why does the date matter
when it is a moment in time;
a moment to forget?

there is haze in the air
helping to forget fading magic.
peace, and people. and coffee
blend into hand-painted tables
and bumper-sticker walls
and i cannot recall how i got here.

the emollience has taken me nowhere
for a while now
and i know i never want to wake up
from this.

and is this sustainable
like the magic herb growers in oregon?
and is this safe
like my bed and my pillow
and my memories?

and where is the line
and you know this is true
and it can be anything you imagine.

every day has been a clear canvas
stroking inside and out of the lines
until i have painted you perfectly.

it is leather bound, all this is
and i will continue to check in with you

it hovers somewhere and syringes downward,
manifest,
each time, training and testing each time.
is there method in the involuntary madness?

i don't always draw hearts and flowers
and symbols
but i like those things, i do.

the walls are speckeled differently today
but he will sing the same songs
until i understand the lyrics
and the gathering of souls to witness
the truth of this meeting.

it has been long,
magnificent,
but long
and i send love to you dear friend

eve of a new year

2010-01-20T09:34:00.000-08:00

it is the dawn of the fire starter journal
union workers and feather followers

land of the free

2010-01-20T09:32:00.000-08:00

told in the dews of morning
of a structure of liberty --
a code for creativity --
coloring between the lines.

but anything can exist in this language
numbered and capitalized
and all the thing needs is a thinker
and a paintbrush or someone who paints.

and on the last day, watch your children,
listening to the purrs in the sunlight.
it sets again, in the west it sets,
so turn eastward for the new day.

i thank you god for most this amazing day

2009-12-30T10:44:00.003-08:00

and by "god" i mean "you"
xoxo

stepping up to twenty-ten

2009-12-30T10:33:00.000-08:00

thank you uriel, thank you jennifer hoffman

day nine - Accept

These past few years may have given us many reasons to doubt others' sincerity, love, integrity and commitment to us. We have to see others as they are before we can understand why we need to release them to find their own path and power, without our support, guidance and assistance. These can be bitter pills to swallow and leave us hurt, angry and sometimes resentful. Acceptance is one way in which we express unconditional love to others, and that means accepting them as they are, without judgment.

For today, give someone the gift of acceptance. See them as they are, acknowledge the value and healing of their journey, and allow them to follow it, no matter what it is, knowing it is right for them. See them as perfect, whole and complete, exactly as they are at this moment.

Because they are, and so are you.

day eight - Acknowledge Yourself

When the healing we extend to others who reject it we feel the pain on many levels. When life does not turn out as we want, we think we are unworthy. On an emotional level we feel powerless. Spiritual, we think our contracts are incomplete. Our mission is to bring light to the world and even if it takes a day, month or longer for the results to appear, we do move the energy and the results will manifest with divine timing. We can extend the healing by acknowledging our ourselves, no matter what appears to be happening around us. Recognize that you do the best you can, in every situation.

For day, acknowledge yourself as the teacher, healer, student and powerful being that you are. Everything you do is successful, every aspect of your being is important to your own mission of healing, growth and transformation. Find joy in the light and love you bring to the world. This is what you are here to do, for yourself and for humanity. Acknowledge each step on your journey because each one is equally important. No matter how much others do or do not accept you, acknowledge yourself a powerful, divine being who is worthy of acceptance. Release those who reject you and the healing you offer them, acknowledge their path and be at peace knowing that you have done the best you could and the rest is up to them.

day seven - Love

Love is what we all seek and too often we do not find it. We all have experiences of betrayal, abandonment and pain that can make us believe that we are not worthy of love, or that love is for others and not for us. No matter what has happened to us, we are worthy of love and whatever pain we have been through has been part of our own healing, and that of those we connect with. Our greatest and most powerful teachers are those who cause us the most pain and every experience contains a blessing.

Today, consider the most unlovable person in your life, the one who has caused you the most pain, and send them unconditional love. This is how you release them and yourself from whatever karma you have between you. Now send that same love to yourself because you deserve it and are worthy of it. Send love to everyone around you, all of the time. Become a source of love and light for others and it will be returned to you.

day six - Appreciate

In our work to heal ourselves and the world we can become so involved in the healing process and vested in the outcome that we take do not recognize the blessings that come to us every day. We believe we could have done more, faster, better, been more careful, observant or simply known better and this ignores the blessings of every step on our path. In order to be the light and love for the world, we have to begin with loving ourselves and our perfection and acknowledge the blessings we have.

For today, recognize one or more blessings in your life and appreciate them. They may be as basic as having food to eat, clean water, a safe place to sleep, and financial security. These are things you take for granted but for many people, these are luxuries. Your lessons are blessings too, although they may not feel that way, so be grateful for the learning and healing they gave you. Be grateful for each thing in your life, appreciate the joys and sorrows, the opportunities to learn which bring understanding. Make appreciation a daily practice and watch your blessings multiply.

day five - Intention

Intention is everything. It creates the energy for whatever is going to manifest for us. We set intentions for healing and then are surprised when our life is full of healing opportunities. Why not set an intention for joy, abundance, love and success? Setting an intention is how we create energetic openings for what we want to manifest in our life.

For today, set your intention for the wonderful things you want to create in 2010. Be bold, daring, courageous and outrageous. Set your intention for what you want, instead of what you think you can have. Remember that the Universe works with you, not for you. Set your intention for the biggest, most wonderful life experience you can imagine and then invite the Universe to surprise you with something better.

day four - Claim your Creativity

We think of creative people as those who create art or music, who write, knit, cook or sew. Creativity is not limited to what you can do with your hands, it is what you are and the way you create your reality. Each of us is creative, we are all creators and we use these abilities every day. Every aspect of your life is something you have created. You have a choice to be stuck in it, if it is something you do not like, or create something different.

For today, claim your creativity. You are a co-creator with Source and the earth is your canvas. What do you want your little piece of the earth to look like? It is in your hands and heart to create the life of your dreams. So create something wonderful and then enjoy the manifestation of your creative power.

day three - Move the Energy

Energy is a constantly moving force that surrounds us with the opportunity to create an unfolding reality. When we are flowing with this energy we feel energized, excited and have many opportunities available to us. When we are stuck, the energy stagnates and we feel depressed, sad and anxious. The energy is trying to move and we are in the way.

For today, move some energy. It is stuck because you have stopped moving forward in some area of your life. If you do not know where to start, begin with your physical environment. Clean a closet, straighten your desk, give away something that holds memories you no longer want to keep, give away things you no longer want or need. In your emotional environment, make a list of the emotions you want to be present in your life and set your intention on them. Pay attention to your thoughts and when the negative ones come up, replace them with something positive. Stay focused on moving the energy and it will flow in your life.

day two - Disconnect

Hidden within our energetic being are multitudes of cords that connect us to emotions, beliefs, thoughts, experiences and people. Everything you encounter in your life has an energetic connection to you. The cords that are based in fear siphon energy away from you. The ones that are grounded in love return energy to you. Fear-based cords are activated when it is time to disconnect and release them. This is a choice point for an important decision, do you return the emotion in kind or do you disconnect from it?

Each person who pushes your buttons is activating a cord you share with them. Instead of responding to them with your own fear, connect to your inner guidance and ask what cordis being activated and the lesson it corresponds to.Then set a conscious intention to disconnect the cord from that person, to send them unconditional love and see them in their perfection. As you disconnect from this energetic level, you allow the possibility for a connection at a higher vibration.

For today, practice disconnecting from every energy you do not want to be part of your life in 2010. Send love and light to the cords that bind you to fear and release them to complete those lessons. Set an intention for relationships and experiences that honor, enlighten, fulfill, respect and shower you with love.

dock of the bay

2009-12-28T21:44:00.000-08:00

buildings scrape for the first time again in some time
and piano players strum guitar with their cases lined with red velvet
and please, god bless.
what is it here that isn't anywhere else
that harvey and lawrence and jerry saw and ate.

haight-ashbury lined with sweaters, piercings and park
offering buds every time you look at anyone's eyes.
muir forest with reds and greens and earth so thick with life.
wharf markets and whole foods and poets shouting at traffic lights.

i saw a lady with a wheel chair lined with cats with slitted eyes.
she was asking for money and giving political advice.
lebanese coffee shops, buddha statues
hills looking into misted mountains with bridges and night shaded brothers.

you know where I am and i want you to find me.
everyone else kisses my neck but doesnt smell like you
or look into my eyes, touching slightly in conversation
as you play your truth about how to save your self, messiah.

you may always be there for now but i made to meet you blessing.
and mariners will be as they are until in light we can answer cryptic
harvests together, committed.

skeptic

2009-12-28T11:07:00.000-08:00

it was not supposed to be and then it was
and then it was marvellous or incredible
but you would say, perhaps,
it was just as long as it was now.

you helped me realize that you should only continue past the destination
when you can taste the wonders there
and this is where the magic is, and pizza.
you do what you do understanding the stark necessity:
sons, or marriage, or business proposals;
cocktail parties for god's sake
(and i say this in sensitivity).
i know i share a moment with you
and laughing created and space
through space
and if i read something that awes me;
see breathtaking;
you may know about it
or never, but the me that was you then,
with you then,
will then know.

Inter-Continental

2009-12-28T11:00:00.000-08:00

when the reins are surrendered
taking adamence with them in leather
it still drops
and the dust displaced
is incensual gravity.
the lore is beauty
if the eye beholds
and in this dimension of buzzing quiet
you will feel all that you know.

Orange and green were once the only color
and we are African
but the mind realized what it could do to hide us,
limping through reality.
and apples taste like floury apples
until it is just an apple
giving its talons.