August Shoots of Grass

August bamboo shoots collect the
Elixir of life in cylindrical cones
Reaching into heaven a proud emerald green.
A decortified tool of reinforced grass.
A lone raven lifts a wing and
Alights to the top branch of a juniper tree.
The sound from the black
Canvas attached to his frame
Shook me.
As if animal nature
Had power to generate a gust
And the will to turn his fury into a storm.
The raven swayed with his neck
Held close to his body.
The Wind obeyed him.
August shoots of grass
Across grandmother’s bearded chest.
I passed a building of Twombly’s architecture
Admiring twisted pillars and broken mirrors about the front door.
I was surprised at the absence of evil.
Orbs hung before the walls and
Wicked wires played in space. But all
Was only suggestion.
A wounded hound guarded the corner of his room
Wrapping his injured body pitifully
Around his wounds
Snarling towards the door
There was nothing to relieve his pain.
An owl in the rafters of the shed watched his every move.
The raven moved from the juniper and rested upon the fence
And watched his every move.
Tattooed women lay in the grass and
Watch his every move.
His grimace does not ease.
The face of his pain has a recognizable name.
A method of punishment exits within the subconscious.
The hound has forgotten his own name,
Knows only the howl of his pain.
Nymphs of uncut graves cannot help him.
Down the darkened road walks a being
Androgynous human he
Looks like a mountain of a man grizzled
By spit and Time
Beetles and food in his beard.
Pocket full of shells
Do I see you coming home?
Pocket full of shells.

Life Synchronous

Marmoset captain, visage powerfully scarred,
Visits the Moon Loon, his master’s brooding sea bard.
Crystal laughter across the faded shores
Stands mocking the Moth King in the face of his hordes

Vicious sunrise, open parcels of dawn,
She stopped a runaway train
Silken weavers of war
Bending fragments of lime
Memories in time

Fading from mind
Faeries laying in green clovers
Leprechauns  braiding roots in her hair
Dreams are frightfully cast
On the King’s bed of glass

Whispers to Sea: XIII

Unity is our invisible force – River. The last of Oregon air, it feels separate directions, I’m wondering. Crushing men shuffle about one man and put my ear to the iron rail. Search for cheese by the heart? Days to end, vagabond souls commotion of the night. Their lights forget the harsh elements and through cuts of trees some in fact taken is own. I am too leading the wayward floater one another’s efforts. A weary traveler, how has while others watched the whip the other direction to avoid across undulating Earth. And early in the you can see His fantastic design, thousand in the lounge cart the same time was the trees, different. Of the Golden Gate bridge across has showered – A black duck bathes in the valley melody and forehead, white socks and nose, foggy toads croaking, sniffing and kissing. Of a million dollars, Mother’s upstairs in walking into The Faces. Brothers Karamazov breath, I am the wind and bonzai trees over the beach back to safety without lightening athletic run and admire her window, old orange cat named The Earth was moist and run along the familiar running paths around them. God’s image; family. Swimming in the ocean overcome, reading Armenian stories at night. Under the sun’s beam key writings, Poe. New grass springs from the than progress further, putting two different weeds in, but calm now. A symbol of the compassion after chasing a housecat. “Is this an older one?” Hoarding useless, meaningless, knew she was in a cell. Fire, an untouchable bum starts to run revived to life the little to French dictionary to the hip. Now I’m getting carried, smooth breast, the stream rising them inside. Snow piled up to the comfortable men walking like fucking Day the dog, the pug, the name of native dirt. Wandering through he was thinking of his family, of life and not to become a builder. But this time as I passed there was a capacity for compassion and didn’t want to be at home short reading of Shelley, Emily. To express and so the gawks, macona and hash, moments of by that name I am known and I was one are fat shuffle to put books away. Soon we vagabonds bailing out of junky porto’ potty happiness sharing love for it is looses. Garden of Heaven – A quiet mission to export gay rights, high spending battle for senate control, particular human beings have shown you to me? Who? Equal to a fellow man virtue; the wise desire virtue. A red bird shakes the ancient elder tree to call to heaven and spilling your fruit.

Amelia Earheart

Proud walk skinny with stained bodies
Observing reptilian sun
Don’t go away, don’t go away

Dirty mail sunk with Amelia
Scars on skin depict
100 year wars,
divine architecture,
and angels,
Don’t go away, don’t go away

Bodies of rising water
From mist to ice defined
The memory of this life
Lines to an unknown play

Don’t go away, don’t go away, don’t go away.

Whispers at Sea: VIII

Collective leadership should be on by law are cancelled out by actual cucullus nonfacit monachum. Heiderberg, the middle of the two cars and long light dressed as a sort of.. My night next to her mom and we start under current leading to secret. The clouds that obstruct his view fulfill our desires as the asking for money through the night, woods, gem and sage wrapped sky. Midnight through the roof. The yellow train is on the capacity. The mother of the ship is launched in to the sky. Stone walls often protrude feats of common bravery being filled, every time peeking. But I am, less until the day, giant. One of these for our arrival! Who is to judge our capacity? The bushes on the highway, for all. It has a canal running the dog howls at his yourself will become alive as me. Birds call from trees above there is a liquid a the soft holes, rings around the blazing sun. “Hey man, what we dancing on? The Dead of Bed number?” The one another through the valley runs on the beam. The Artist, Mother Nature, was held as most running and pivoting – I’m playing sea. Giant redwood trees and window on Abovian Street there, bottom of the giant hill outside. For the horse doesn’t, I wanted through the neighborhood or along or am I really trapped along grumbling to who will rushing, all you need is a shack to get by, Atlas Shrugged Ayn Rand. California window where happen to pass by turkeys dancing around the apple taking place within a month to nurture Mother Nature to her. A new Dr. Faustus with a love of thinking of a moth folding slowly quivering in my cup. We walked thru Martinez restaurant Chan’s, a favorite of “Tha’s what I’m sayin’.” Demanding order to carried out by I. Might as well be alone in a room crust of Earth to harmonize news, high fashion jewelry, pizzeria. The teeth are bared and one mouse falls from the beak. The Fox by D.H. Lawrence. Some foreign substance peeking the room. Two candle flames dance the snow we stepped our way of Oregon. Requirement so dumb people survive off the kindness of a fellow. Water? 500. Weren’t the one listening. I’ve covered myself with individuals. It’s 5:03 no one is in a hurry and other vegetables staring. Have I gone astray? A normal breakfast of great secrets of reality and seeing, and lightly to tap, and Marcellus? Would you leap from the Shiite militants join in push pride. In front of me a young man with – will he be made a spectacle of as if dressed? Meanwhile everywhere you seem weaving pathways on spilled autumn by the divine impression of the foot. Truths heavy on my mind. Night into new dimensions I breathe. There is another heaven and destroy drug price gauging hits hospitals too, Haitians struggling to find clean water, pay a dollar. You start to see complacency, you have the audacity to puppies like them. But the wild wind blows them hither. Book IV of the Analects: II. All by myself I cast my image over all shapes, the other half scattered. Allow the passerby to offer me, who are considered tame, with branches blessed by the graces.

Whispers to Sea: V

Should collective leadership be praised and ignorance battling in the city of exceptis excipiendis bid me farewell. J. takes window hashish behind me even though that the old white head of age coach seating to Darjeeling – resting place stride respiration to forget. Some rest their heads on pillows, millions are taking their leave from great hills. T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound drop away to valleys, stopped next to a white stone as a woman she gives in bed clutching tightly as train catches her breath. Few who were sought to be dreads sleeping in empty seats stirring whirlpools in my pupils. That surrounded orange lights bedeck. I am the longest blessings. Two foreign lovebirds smootch in at least think to give it. Escobar hound stands enamored. Die and come to life. A love for food I find my beaks. He glides down through the mist I saw him fly to a dead tree finally brushing the white bear of Pai Mei, and I haven’t stopped to run down the house of flesh. The Portable Nietzche unmoved by the cold wind and rocks are the shore – and the air in front of the crashing possible exit place, I stand as apart factory towns mysterious and of blanket wrapped, abused by wind and rain, a stranger comes from being raised aware of the face that I am, I want, sometimes I look up and she taps her feet with perfect cat Elmo somehow ending up. The collection but once the life knows compassion, intermixed with grapevine color, setting them inside his window – reflections on the water of home and down the hall a love to suffering lives and show. Our Esteben was eaten in the ocean, a marvelous round of applause. The most fundamental, and on this ride out Cove, vehicles and trees covered the strip club shrivel up – See them? Yelling at every ear some offhand. It is hard to leave northwest. Was fire soon to graduate shuffling than the wind, Eater by DeQuincey and a few park benches. Aside humming ancestral notes, Europeans who stole land. Warm showers or coffee and powers held quietly sometimes closing in behind a glass table. The loudest man in desert to find the oasis in lost toad’s croak form a golden Only One. And his voice is my stelps leading me further from child, the wisdom of living, the teacher shoots of grass was spreading – they are standing elbow to elbow and alleyways next to the Tramp’s Staircase, holds three being of innocence and divinity. Fire burns still, I light a peace cruel. And who is to tell of the harm Halloween, Hollywood, changing day of piece of my heart. Most of the trees neighborhood with three goats standing on with mango tree. The newly crumble under the weight of the eyes, but it seems the moments they are not allowed gracefully in their appointed orbits scattering. I am sorry I startled you tending to live in the blink of an eye, serene. Or as she coyly waves her hand to sip protests shut down Venezuela’s capital clashes. An oil bubble emerges in west Texas. To my wonder you seem to be a scream from suffering on the floor, to the right, under a side, without a cause of prancing morning to rocks’ red velvet destroyed in one day. Satisfy my longing, weep over on this stone or that table.

Whispers to Sea: IV

Must be given full expression wealth but were kept in misery in Italy babbles, let my eyes not see. Greek poet Tractatus Logico-Philosophius. Mom left us at the train station and even at the small stench of the bathrooms can be fixed, complaining about the space in, perhaps, a spot moved from your familiar shoulder causes his strenuous lights. Her chest heaving with chasing me with their long teeth. The road under all the stars. As soon as one may rest his head we weave around the bases of Joyce, Huxley, D.H. Lawrence, where small canyon walls would, somewhere in northern California masculine thing but seen, take flight. She holds his shirt the moon taketh away. We stop for a minute and so there were, “Who is the man behind with yellow?” Her strong steady fingers. Everything sit like stone behind me to the left. Destination – but it is the final minutes are home ready to receive her and white on top sitting in the bay. Kisses and groping you flowers. It has quiet streets harmonizes as their Goethe, “Stirb und werde.” Knowing the future. But as I open my eyes, strange prize pierced between two call comes from a woodpecker; opening your eyes to the fog. The bell tolls for red desert hills beautiful tree in the rain. Giants Smoker, Plato, King’s Range of a little rock. The beach, small sandy hills and the shore. Small birds danced in, find no familiar entrance or roaming herds of cows and horse. Small opening in the part quiet horses stand in the pasture a game I became, upstairs without a friend. Simple, the fire is personal timekeeper so old and slow, fluffy are still – at noon. The last stop. Current situation; hill softly lit by sun, low branch whose plant is side once can see a different picking fresh zucchini. The full pond behind the apple tree. Nonsense to be flooding through the compassion we are able to bring strange with a fire not emitting heat, black pebbles on the beach, that lets out song exclaim it is worth more than gold. Train before home – Addicted. Hills to the coast of Shelter where ‘Free Prime Rib Mondays’. My hands just, I saw them, bellowing from their nostrils. Enjoy the ride song as the toads in before this it road. Eyes half open, patient. The mountain is mightier confessions of an American opium only to observable by myself. Thy hand? Windowsill wooden flute tossed. Conquered territories like the stove. Then we could use it for human brain scramble at dawn with the fuzz plate sitting on the middle of thicker forest through plains of muddy marshes where the disguised charity and you only get one life long. All the beauty being shared behind the small cabin whose new shell reflecting a flame in dark lit apartments autumn desert. The jar in the mood when we witness a Richard II, Vilette. With a flame and as the constant words are silly people barbarous and election central place in the city and also a coffee shop in our neighborhood. The jasmine unites and intertwines new detail so they stare and slowly that require and estimated distance. Staring into the warm abode and causes Ursa’s seven stars to roll over my right shoulder. Water one of the multitudes. Within it’s fields I shall laugh silently. My soul is to murmur tender secrets in her ear. Anxiety Syrian air strikes on Aleppo amid intense Chile’s socialists take a beating. Sit aside on a rock and ponder when he whines it sounds like it burned and, “Up there against the wall.” The Champion rose to leave his spouse’s shut naked lunch to the sun’s lip, to the skirt. Half of it’s number, one of your sidewalks but to roar with my chin placed at the very edge of the world. Thoughts are clouds in the sky.

O.M.

You all set then? / Cross your legs, close your eyes / Breathe / Deep / And I may find you, wherever / And when we meet, can I find you at the beach? /  I know a place with black pebble sand / And we can stand in the waves / Walking into the ocean / The scene changes when we blink our eyes / For a short breaths moment / We find ourselves standing in a deep room looking down a dark hallway lacking carpet / Cold with concrete / Her face is like a sunken treasure / A woman crosses the room / Drops a heavy canvas bag onto the cement floor / Continues down the hallway / You and I stand / Silently watching her walk away / The sway through the ether / In another instant we are gone / Fear was expelled from me in the face of One / Original Man / And everything that has happened since / Ebbs with the ocean, without / Positive or negative / On the edge / Of her upper lip / A dew point of sweat is beading / In the light she tastes like whiskey / Still, I am not alone.

Whispers to Sea: III

When all the virtues of a people – people are the creators of all repeated tremors over two months. Your mute I will be when my tongue, Arion charming dolphins with song. Ludwig Wittgenstein south into northern California. My surprise at the amount of youth or maybe Oakland and a middle aged woman headed to places unknown. Your gaze permeating from burden. A sack he slung over his growing, tinkling with all these dogs who never stop on the highway. Only it’s light illumines sleeping man’s empty cup. The moon switches windows as Hemingway, Faulkner, Kafka northern a yellow train car off the tracks. Bested in a duel, it is as a rocket ship preparing to day. The sun gives us confidence tread our size. Rails pulling slowly out of each town. Wand through my eyelashes, chest, the way he ate into. But now they are barren objects, the train have just left the seat. Only an hour or so until let her know surely her neighbors a giant ship all red at the bottom. French couple incessant, whirling around the same patch of grove, a gather of nymphs. Heraclitus Panta rhei – Abstractly knowing with birdbaths and water fountains in northern California with that; the slightly frantic chirping and knowing who you are. Fire is water jumping porch playing a wooden flute because splashing water is underneath a yellow giant winding through the Avenue of The Girl and The Hashish Smoker. The great dialogues of a hill somewhere before the waves created an aura along his step as he thundered along of my inner mind where one may past midnight huge open pastures one eye only through. It has been a welcome storm. Two and ideas of being stuck in. Rule the world? Because I know he will be bored. A situation the rain beats a rhythm outside madrones and all but the dew drops use the words of Leo from if you are writing of the eats, the new grass at the bottom of the ash on the table. Into it? Do you leave it as is? Lands on the branch of a bubble and from every the beds, one star over the ridge is forbidden. Better for nonsense drawing from the unlimited well stuck in a dimly lit room strange, resting on a large stone. Heard someone not long ago in a Falls, Oregon, the last stop on, may describe the lot of them littered the way down to change. But the color red is everywhere. “Ouch! My hand is right there.” Stomping into every room smoke coast take the 101 and frogs in Chile croak the same in front of one eyes leaving the white line on the cloud home where, as any others, a secret day, our water pipes are seeping lead to seek justice also from pip as palo santo burns on the conditions of his kingdom. Would have to heat our water on the effect of emotion on the wars. School kids jump fences and dinner from off a paper. Hopping trains across borders into waters of the shallow. In millions behind the scenes in some wiping silent tears at the bar. Why have I been complacent for her granddaughter? And you think of a budding hill that rose huge, a silver tortoise guards the fire. Who was the one who used to rock with rain and mist, cool in the entire room and instantly brighten selections of Chekhov and a thesaurus. By the window and light two if these ideas really belonged to me. Standoff verdict adds to tense, close the lovely park that holds very majestic star. Gives to true beauty fresh attractiveness, know of to happen to know some in between these souls there are few window of the human home. The wind that bears along the triple Ganges, a twinkling star catches my eye from the one who’s name was writ on and birds constructs their nests green mountains and thy circling movement hover near. Halloween costumes inspiring new type Shiite militias join Mosul offensive. Saudi-led air strikes hit prison complex with being. An ant of my colony as I kitchen drenched in jealousy, it burned, and earth in all it’s loveliest hues arrayed the jeering mouths of men open and to the birds, to the roots of roses, an entire people’s cries come and lay my cheek against and I want not only to growl and grin, growing in the vineyard and you are private.

Sidewinder

But enough darkness young man
Power of word was given to
edify your brothers and sisters
Without judging the forms without
Whatever you see that which saddens
your heart is alive to bring you
life
And is apart of the whole
Not being you
Not being me
But collectively one being in love
To escape the wheel of teeth
Dismissing you, Dismissing me
And only resting in non-entity
Every woman is my grandmother
And looking into my eyes she sees
the strength of her father
And every man is my brother
holding hands
Holding hands we roll in the grass
Whose naked moisture supports
our bodies as we roll and
Make impressions impressions as if dancing
across sand
Looking into his eyes I see the history
of every man