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Be
More Like Flowers
Wonderful
the flowers
Each year they appear
And request nothing
Look into me
Look into me and hold there
Look into me and hold there
Look into me and hold here
Lock into me and hold her
Lock into me and behold
Lock into me and be bold
Lick into me and be bold
Lick into me and be told
Lick into me and unfold
Luck unto me and our fold
Luck into meander fields
Luck is to meander free
-February 2000
-Miami Beach, FL
Communicate
Without Words
Don't speak to me of gentleness
Caress my cheek as if it were the lamp that held three wishes
And you the gentleman who found it
Don't speak to me of consolation
Press your instrumental heart firmly to my own
And calibrate the beats of our inner consoles
Don't speak to me of understanding
Let teardrops run from your empathic cheeks
To stand like pearls under my trembling throat
Don't speak to me of nearness
Let me feel the condensation of your crystal breath
Near the supple ripples of my stomach
Don't speak to me of love
Sear your eyes to my own hallelujah Kama Sutra
Let our beams make love in the optic clover
-February 2000
-Miami, Florida
Frozen Like
Blown Glass
I’m
frozen like blown glass
Hear the future in a thunder crash
And stand in silence
My lip buttoned like an oxford shirt
I cannot move
Cannot blink
Cannot bear to look away
It’s moments now
till I disappear
Like fog in the breath of the sun
Blown away in wisps
In the snap of two strong fingers
And you smile
And melt my fear
like drawn butter
Glass Poodle
Today I saw
a glass toy poodle
standing erect
on a television set
Quietly
Obediently
it minded its master
the glassmaker
who created it with
an icy soul
capable of only
stillness in a
moving world
Relaxxxxxx
I want to get loooooooooooosssse
I mean slinky
Like a wet rope I drop
From the top
Of the Empire State Building
plapppp
When that thing hits 34th street
It is loooooosssssse, Baby
I want to be laying down all over
Even while I'm standing right here
Sprawled like Cleopatra on a divan
Palm frond duck pond magic wand
Bring it on
Loossssse, baby
Over easy, with a side of hash browns
Well done
Yeah I can get wound up
Tight like a tomahawk
Fisted like a bullet
And it aint good for my smile
Or my laugh lines
Adds salt to the fruit punch
So to it I put my mind
But I need to find
The ability
To lose my mind
In the literal sense
As in, for a time
I do not wish to know where is
My mind
It needs to be gone away
In a simple stroke
A puff of smoke like an artichoke
No this aint no joke
I wants to hang my head
And let the brains drip out
Maxwell House style
To the last drop
Drip
Drop
Drip
Drop
Wet
And
Out
Generous
Seahorse caballera
Generous as a field of apples
Saddled and spurred and
Dusted off twice
Cinnamon in the wind
Eyes like a jetstream
Glance silently in a crowded room
Invoking but an eyebrow of conversation
...all that is needed
Silent as flamingos wading
By turquoise seas
One leg tucked
Safely home
-May 2002
-San Francisco
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A Strand of Your Hair
I found a strand of your hair today.
Actually two strands.
One on my blanket. One in the bathtub.
Blonde, curled lazily.
Waiting to be found.
Diamonds in my rough.
The notion tickled me.
Made me sigh.
Gave me pause.
Forded a river in my heart.
These simple strands composed so quietly.
Housing all of you.
A geneticist's orgy of you.
Free. Willing. You.
Sentient. Potent. You.
Filling a void.
Fragrant in some distant orbit.
Finding me in a delicate whisper of golden harmony.
April 2000
San Francisco, CA
Elephants
The gentle soulfulness
Rough-hewn nobility
They cannot hide
Must be as they are in the world
Lumbering
Yet determined
Many consider them good luck
I see inspiration
For they love to play
Yet know sadness
And fight for what they cherish
Without hesitation
Unbroken Thoughts
Unbroken thoughts
lie heaped
in the center
of my room
until
into a dust pan
a cardboard box
I sweep the pile
to be used
one day
When
smeared in wet concrete confusion
Mind gears lock
Cold
1 2 3
I'll
march
straight
up to the
dusty attic
BOXES OF THOUGHTS
In a low ceiling corner
And begin to
toss ideas over
my shoulder
like shrimp tails
Till
My hand slides into a Cinderella glove
and is kissed by a princely thought
which I will
escort to my Empty Page
and place gently
CREATING
a fully formed moment
to
fold
and drop
in the box
at my feet
August 1991, Los Angeles, CA
Sous les Paves, il y a la Mer
Under the paving stones there is the sea
Under the sea there is the earth
Under the earth there is the sky
Under the sky there is my heart
Standing alone
A newborn in a snowdrift
Cold and shivering
Crying for mother
For softness
For comfort
A warm pert nipple
Sustenance and life
A chance to be strong
A chance to be seen
A chance
To be recognized
And respected and
Held tightly
A smooth stone in the palm of a fist
Clenched
Not in anger
But devotion
-July 1991
-Boulder, Colorado
Routine
Wake each morning
to the alarm clockÕs stinging cold slap
The first of the coming dayÕs
many unwelcomed realities
The initial step to the bathroom
meets resistance
from the still unwakened subconscious
The purity of truthfulness
trying to preempt
the painful face to face meeting
with hypocrisy
that waits
in the bathroom mirror
Weakness prevails
and the bloodshot falsehood
of the daily routine
steps stiffly into the shower's jets
Slowly
the engines of compromise
are fired
and the machine begins
to manufacture its excuses
Tensed neck muscles
reluctantly adjust
to the top button's corporate insistence
And gulp down pride
black with no sugar
Mechanical good mornings
bounce about like ping pong balls
Hollow and small
coming to rest
in circular files
alongside crumpled wads
of self respect
The enterprise survives indefinitely
on the trading of goods
not goodness
Business is constant
honesty bartered
for a cost of living increase
and two weeks paid leave
And after 20 years of the same conversation
A gold watch
to keep track
of all the time
that's gone forever
Fall 1990
News Cafe, Miami Beach
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