Seen from Yellow, Watery Eyes

Eyes, my love Frankenstein
Give me such longing, holding their shine
Friendly lashes, by and by, herein
Once worded, ears tucked under signs.

Fallen one, a mother who lies
Lives without, the head a ruing seal
Stand straight, see all the wonder
Let me see all your truth.

Not twice, Frankenstein. See me glimmer sharp
with two stern lines. Look inside me.
Bid me blackened and then go away.
How far one’s father flies.

Do not wonder if I am capable.
I won’t be found through gentle gestures.
Tricks, oh eyes, what the whispers halt
from the Golden overflow of these wounds.

4/28/11

Flying Monkeys and Such

There was a time when I tried to fly
downhill full speed arms flopping
like a Canada goose running across water
hoping to take off into air.
My feet rarely left the grass
and I clearly remember the disorientation
of disappointment. Judy Garland never
got her answer. No one ever wrote her
a sequel to Somewhere Over the Rainbow,
the one where rules apply, restrictions enforced,
dreams crash down and shatter as glass panes
against the jagged rocks below. There
will be other dreams but since that day
I have learned too many answers and am
content with these limits.

4/27/11

Pitt in my Brain

Forty or so years ago,
imprinted in my head
like a stamp. WOMAN.
Mold is cast, ink still wet
prone to smudging. Never
got off to you, on you
despite such considerable
assets and your confidence
to display them, even
through clothes and bubbles.
No, there is a higher standard
at work here, an eastern European
archetype of cheek mole, accent.
This is the role of lifetimes over,
more immortal than any vampire.

4/26/11

Circle Meets Square

A bond not to be broken
between natural/unnatural
It taints stains erodes away
while it solidifies joins together
reminds as a constant decoration
or symbol it is always noticed
even admired rarely removed
If so, it usually leaves an impression

4/26/11

Musings from Scribes

The film is finished. Throughout the ten

Directions of space, we are not alone:

We have brothers in the hills and sisters

In the jungles. We want the empty offices

collecting dust! I am at one with the world

and yet stand out from it. There is no such

thing as standing still. Link by link, we forget

the chain. There is no reason to play with death.

I tell her the truth.

Jack Hirschman, William S. Burroughs, Jack Kerouac, d. a. levy,

Diane DiPrima, Bob Kaufman, Gerald Locklin, Lenore Kandel

Only Child's Fairytale

An old Queen had been dead.
A beautiful daughter, a King’s son
living beyond the open. The wedding
drew for leaving furniture
and cups
and jewels
and adornments of gold
and silver.

She gathered everything proper
for she loved dearly.

4/22/11

Hop-A-Long Meets the Axe

Given the holiday
Easter is here again,
time to recall all the
trials of Spring.

Evil-grinned rabbits that
hide all my treasures in
mischievous burials.
Murder’s the Thing.

4/22/11