Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Lineae (or Paper Patterns, pt ii)

Circadian circumference rhythms from the earth's core
flow from the center of my outstretched palms
towards blood/red-moon/shine
Down on my skin, fading to transparency
As you, thousand-for-everything Southern child,
convey a similarity
a parallel, which
I must find in wildernesses, pomegranates
to smash in my hands (probably four years later)
and therefore redeem a powerful phrase I uttered then,
when I (now) realize, my previous orbits were unaligned.

I will forever call you Aeolian,
Your laughing breath stained through seven exhalations.
Midnight silence still burns on my eyelids,
but this quietness is ever-cleansing and ever-revealing.

I'll ask you three questions, then:
Are your origins atmospheric?
Will you allow my wind to carve your name?
What colors are bursting from your hands?

Just please don't say red.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Notes on the Chronicle of Soil

Head spinning // Heart spinning
(Both in flight)
Room misting
Christ above, silently watching

I am not awakening!
And I wrote:
laughing forever and ever. In Holy, hilarious ecstasy.
Still asleep,
So much more alive.
It is all under His feet.
Heart completely on fire.

and intimately woven.

Were we:
Spheres of brilliant energy
Tangled in forces
In the heaviest depths of night?
(And no, it is not what you perceive it is about)
But much more brilliant, and increasingly brighter.

So now, let me ask:
When do we crack to share the balance of multitudes of brilliance inside of us?
When do we rise to then explode in front of our open eyes?
When do we open our hands, compare our wrinkles and then rub them together to make electricity?
Tell me, when are you ready?

Monday, June 8, 2015

Earth Witness

Crushed wheat,
Background tintinnabulation
under forest thoughts and vehicle prowlings.
Pulled from the earth, a brother, and thus water flows forth!

A demand: triumph, but continue to eradicate stagnant knowledge.
And therefore shatter unethical particle movements,
and thorough hands-
A seal, a mark, a gesture:
all orienting to the North.
And truth.

Your words are substantial, yet I have not yet processed their meaning.
Your sounds are heavy, yet I have not yet understood their nuances.
Your atmospheres are energetic, yet I have not yet interpreted their essence.

From the earth, a sister is pulled.
Brought forth from ash.
She rises, with gestures of fearlessness.
Christ in ecstasy. Hand touching greenest grass. Hand touching desert dust. Hand touching transparent waters. Hand touching heart.

And I intrinsically fall, to the fairest of feet. Eyes expand to increasing brightness.
A witness, I'm aware, is farthest above, yet still unseen.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Evening Pollinate

Eyes wrinkle towards central summer bee stings and strawberry blush cheeks
Blonde pollen stained tips of my fingers
Bright with electric monochrome yellow heat
I enlighten to dawn; and slide closer to the dusted white border of my room
Yet so close standing between the lengths of our folded arms
Eyes constrict and yet we gaze at each other in corresponding two and a quarter seconds- any longer leeches a journalistic or entitlement danger.
And we mustn't! We mustn't! Mustn't! But why (barely referential) not?
Because you see, three dusty parables:
The Incident of figs in mid-evening: crackling syllables to motion.
Two: Welded gilt mirrors collapse, shatter into two single pieces.
Finally: Sky turns gilt bronze, jumps into essential Icarus-lightning, eternally.
And now do you yet see? Eyes flicker wide to archaic flattened seas.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Lovesick on rusted shirts
brushed to quiet pitch black desert dust
Hands, plain and mighty
lodged in the pockets of your evergreen silences
I want to twist
extrapolate data
from western evergreen irises
the interior of poppies;
black, twisted, mighty
there are specified inflections
noticed gracefully.