#poetry - Wake up and smell the roses

"Wake up and smell the roses"

First comes will, then energy,
Then it finds you after you find it,
Then comes curiosity with innocence,
and love and warmth and light.

Next comes the first lie and
in the fall out you cry though,
it was comparatively small but,
it makes you feel paradise lost.

Then you adjust and counter and
begin to lie as well and join
the ranks and participate and
still have love but hurt and feel.

Then the well in you fills
and brims with a sorrow
driven by all you could have said
and done with more truth.

Then the weight of your well
so deep and full halts you fully
and you sink in some form of despair
and begin to think your self is lost.

Then you learn to cope in some way
and drain some of your well
till it fills again and you repeat
and start to polish a human life.

But then just maybe you leave
your well unguarded and unchecked
until it fills and brims and floods
the entire plane upon which you stand
                 and take for granted.

Now you must sincerely dwell
until you find the root and the source
of your well; now you must go down there
against the grain of fear, diving deep.

You have mishaps and fear and anxiety
and nearly drown on the way, but still you go
and little by little you build fortitude
and wind and skill, diving to your pearl.

Then you come like a rocket out of your own deep
with pearl in hand and a glowing smile on face,
and you are then with open rejuvenated heart
and a mind born free and flowing with thought.

And you return to all you love
and return very true but little wise,
you cannot yet know the nature
of the fear in their eyes.

Then you rattle around the walls
of other folks' brains and incite
them to action of good and bad intent
and take their shame and receive harm from them.

Then you open a door to Patience
and go along with a loved one
out of trust; it is next when
Patience and trust meet, that it begins.

You yield the best of you to the best of them,
And in comes more light and vision,
And you yield control and simply be,
while they yield to you both love and skill.

And through the gentle rush of it all,
by the kindness, for the will,
because you are ready and so are they,
next you open up your eyes

and you see the waves of heat
and you smell the Roses
and you know then God is with you
and you know then heaven has come to earth.

#poetry - angel's descent

when i step from this space balloon,
seventy-five thousand feet above earth,
i am alone in the cosmos.

a gamma ray chorus tingles my ear drums,
a wild ice bursts my finger tips,
a faint cinnamon scent, gathering moisture,
hyper-ventilating in my face mask—-

but when i step, i spring
     this fatal swan dive.


caught in the lightest air,
an extreme atmosphere, thin,
where no sense of motion or weight
feathers my arching body
and gives no resistance to my entry.

there comes now a myriad thrill,
a rainbow stinging of dots in my eyes
flashing of vision.

i behold a third of the earth's surface,
the rockies, the andes, timeless glory, rust on a car,
florida's phallic thrust into a gaping gulf
brazil's bulging belly, fertile, alive
a pock-marked and nuked nevada desert, thirsty for my blood.

what brought upon this lonely height
and spurred the first step of this launch—-
why does an angel descend, a wingless final flight?

a sure understanding of abandon,
felt for a moment, so then felt forever,
   abandon, a ceaseless wrench of the abdomen,
   an invitation to nevermore.



when i knew how
you turned away
and that was all
         
                         

but now in my whirring glee, dream or ecstasy,
where my life winds down by terminal velocity,
six hundred miles an hour pushing earth to this body,
i see your face again in these clouds

above wyoming
which would be a fine place to go.

you smile your kind carefree way.
i feel it, even of clouds,
your face melts my core.

what have i done?
what have we done?
done is done.

                                     
to give you space, i floated to heaven,
but staring only at heaven,
by long and lonely ascent,
wears on my life's purpose.


i miss you


so i have jumped
from my space balloon,
and now born of this heaven,
without wings,
i loom for a short while
over the world of men.

i fall to a place you may find,
by then a grave of sand,
with a canyon of stone at my head.

#poetry - there was a Rose

there was rose
who knows my toes
they glow
held in a room
consumed
essential perfume

the door was closed
they thought they
had the time
yet we were close
so everything
did shine

i saw the waves
heat rising from
my body
i heard your voice
you knew we
had no body

there was a rose
a mystical
rose
it had a scent
though i
had had no nose

this was a heaven
we had opened
the door
i heard a voice
looking around
for more

the voices came
with lots of ruin
for questioning
too much what we were doing
they should have braced
the voyage we were taking
if they had loosened up
we'd still be sailing

oh well we had it then
although we lost it later
i am happy to have been there
and able to be martyr
and though the truth about it
they will not utter
yet there still remains in my heart
the scent of that great Other

there was a Rose
there was a Rose
a mystical Rose

there was a Rose
there was a Rose
a mystical Rose

#poetry - The Dragon and The Prophet and the Soulmate Memory Song

"The Dragon and The Prophet and the Soulmate Memory Song"

Enter the Dragon

She caught the Dragon's
eye when
he overheard her
question
about the state of
nothing,
"Exactly what is
nothing?"

That all depends what
is is---
but it ain't none of your
business,
so don't be fronting
miss miss,
or you'll be melting
fizz fizz!

Until you know the
Whiz Kid,
you shouldn't be so
wicked,
there ain't no justice
mid-lid---
And that one's from the
Prophet :)

Then the Prophet Came and Sang

i do my days
i do my nights
i do the wild wonder
i do the holy thunder

i learn my lessons
i win my fights
i hear the music on the stair
i bottle lightning with the air

i see ole Lucifer go home
i see Michael return to Rome
i see you try to walk with him
i see no sinews and no limbs

waiting now waiting for you to kneel
to tell you then how to use your eye
to show you i's past-present-future
beaming outward of every creature


And The Soulmate Memory's Beaming

I think back now and
remember you,
the tide of days was shorter,
your hair kept growing longer.

Remember what we
liked to do?
When singing of all places,
we flailed ourselves in dances.

But we couldn't keep ourselves
connected,
we tried and tried and tried and tried---
we tried until we both had died!

I guess what else can be
expected
without our bodies to collide,
except to find the other side?

So I wonder if you'll get a chance
to hear this---
You are the music of my sea,
I know you feel the same of me.

I remember you now, I remember
our bliss---
Your life, a song and my eternity,
and Heaven now is just about to be!

  
     
         ~:::}}}}}}Angels{{{{{{:::~

Generatta

I sit here, where Eliot could not,

Twenty floors above the street.

People below are color spots—

Trowsers, rolled? Flat-front or pleat?

Of their flesh is a matter of guess.

That they are human, a matter of faith.

What are they—  What? Tsk tsk, sot—

I simply take note of their game,

Watching as the hawk eyes prey from afar

Through great lanes of land and air,

But I do not swoop, I lick my feathers clean

Of the knowledge my hawk eyes glean,

Here are not matters of pride or shame,

Here is only a question of how to compare

One spot to another, high above it all—

I do not swoop because swooping involves me,

And well, you see,

The twenty floors between,

Naturally, disinterest me.

quest of the armaged ion

"the quest of the armaged ion"

here comes again to my mind
a desire to know what the end is like,
when the starlight is gone to the eye,
and the sun core is cold in the heart.

i must have in this body on any day
enough ions, enough energy to,
with the help of long mental levers,
move my ignorant boulder and know all.

a light bulb precedes the light it gives,
yet light precedes the light bulb.
the body precedes the mind it generates,
but mind precedes the body.

unless the mind is an accident of the body,
perhaps the body is an accident of the energy,
perhaps the energy is an accident of the creator,
perhaps the creator is foolish, though powerful.

does all power require all knowledge?
does all power precede all knowledge?
may be true all-power is all-knowledge, 
and if so, we have two words for one thing.

would you agree all-power and all-knowledge
is the constitution of god, what god is?
put aside the word love, for a moment,
for love is part of that two word package.

must there be context in order to exist?
must there be an off for every on?
           a death for every life?
and must there be non-gods in god's creation?

an apocalypse is lifting the veil.
the veil is a shroud covering all-truth.
all-truth may be the eternal event of heaven.
heaven may be a place of being with god.

in god's creation, there is space and time,
human concepts to measure out, divide and unify.
perhaps all life combined assembles heaven.
here and now, then, is an ageless cousin of infinity.

perhaps the all-life heaven we assemble together
is god's mirror, perhaps we are fit in unison
to stand and be one with our creator
so long as we can stand and be one.

all these questions and answers---
          all these questions and answers,
they are circling, circling, circling,
they are circling, circling, circling.

the circles grow ever narrow
          the circles grow ever wide
to burrow down into truth, a spiral
to open the aperture or sharpen the gaze of the eye.

the moment of birth is an armageddon
of nothingness, proof of somethingness.
into my thoughts i admit then
the moment of death proves nothingness.

so while one is one and two, otherwise,
zero is a hole in the floor
we must avoid at all cost---
what else are our armaged ions for?

all these questions and answers
they are humans and angels
they are singing, singing, singing
they are slowly ringing the all-truth bells.

are we to wake up by this sound
or learn how to sleep peacefully in spite?
would waking up be a process of sleeping,
i'm inclined to think the other way right.

memory i say is the fastest entity
this universe has ever known,
for conception occurs in the split nano-second
of all knowledge, where god returns home.

absolute memory is fleeting, it cannot be clocked.
we remember everything before we forget anything,
everything comes back to us, like a universal shock
between the numbers of time.

armaged ions swirl throughout our body and mind,
and we brink on the edge of doom
for one purpose only,
to peer into our creator's room.

Originally published on AIDYs Poetry Blog

a prayer before dawn

pray now before dawn comes, i said, and you did.
a garden gnome stood by you.
the night sky was abiding, having worked its own dust.
a slow low cloud train rolled over and on,
and several faces admired you, all wrapped in one.
a rush of wind through the trees
nearly masked the rustling bushes over by the rabbit lair.
my vertigo returned and i at last found the stars.
you spit and just about cleared your knees.
i could feel your heart beating in my throat.
i smeared the dew along the back of my neck.
you touched your forehead to the freshly sown row
then lifted up and genuflected before the tomato wire
and stood beside my fallen body.
we formed an upside down T
and the dirt on your fingertips came between
the immaculate conception of your predawn dreams
and the words you then floated aloud,
           i am heaven, here and now.

portrait of the artist as a young elephant

all my days trodding along
i see my shadow
but never a smile

all my days dusting my skin,
there is work to be done,
i know, and it must be done---

for i remember something important,
i remember the sound
of gabriel's horn.

archangelic trumpets always
reverberate through my tusks,
just as i always stomp along

acknowledging the future
as seen in a past life---
an ilium stands between two moments

a proud beautiful city
that exists nowhere
and never will be somewhere

but still exists
to burn light on my canvass
and move my trunk along it.

in between the moments,
in between the lifetimes,
separating the brush strokes

always and forever heaven calling,
calling to tell me
i am already home.