cellar door

Can should & will

Silhouette dressed
Visible and visited
On her surface
Poetry is old and scarred

Seen through our eyes

When it is ours

what will we take?


As the Moon



When is it?

Where is it?

What can we take


What will we take when it is ours
Does the world fail us
Are our words are no longer good

night sky

old and scarred

Poetry if it is to be good should be
Re-visited looked at again
As if it where a strain of virus mutating

We will take what is ours when

The world fails us


Is our ability to do good

claim the word which is ours when what fails us

Can should & will


Silhouette dressed against a night sky
Poetry can be visible and visited
Like the moon on her surface old and scarred

Poetry if it is to be any good should be
Re-visited looked at again
As if it where a new strain of virus mutating

We will take what is ours when


The world fails us

Is our ability to do good


claim the word which is ours when what fails us

sensation

Marianne Stokes "Madonna of the Fir Tree", 1925 

On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,

Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass:

In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.

I shall let the wind bathe my bare head. 

I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing:

But endless love will mount in my soul;

And I shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy,

Through the countryside - as happy as if I were with a woman.

-Arthur Rimbaud

Stop Time

I am
not here

a voice

on
the surface

another winged holy measure
subverting

prose and purpose given
its vice

and sleepless
nights

i imploded
into chance

what is it

why is it

who knows

why know

Conspiracy

Language and
Logic

Are

Outside of
Me

Existing in
Their

Own sense
Of self

Poetry

A Light
Whose hand

Art
Is crafted

Everywhere
Forever

Dreams of
Being

You

Within
Me

no poetry tonight

no poetry

tonight

i cannot write

language

and logic

not with me

the color of

a tree

will be 

argued

an entire 

night

everything

meaning 

anything

blinded 

in a 

light 

winged 

holy 

thing

bleed and then turn left

Words surrounded
Our encampment
Time beginning
Sex
Poetry, lies

and

fire
Lit throughout the
Night

What happened?

And to that young man

Fate had flung together

No words matched

Gathered
In afterbirth

Of cities

And streets
A mid-wife

Witness to

A beginning

Of

Dangerous
Prose

You Born

Among
The copulating serpents

I

Inconsistent

Naked and ignorant

In turmoil

In shit

In chaos

Together

Our
Lust created

Alchemy

Our death
A breath
Of lies

Your savior of

choice

Designing cars

Isotopes

Heroin

Turn right go
here
A few miles

Further

You will

come To A Foreverness

In a basement

In Seattle

We are

Already dead 

nothing last for nothing or no time forever or ever

empty house sits

cold in 

winter

empty old house

sits cold

naked alone

cold

old winter

sitting empty

naked

and alone

crystaline-rush

from my latter... a double exposure.