May 2013
2 posts
OM (Operator's Manual)
OPERATOR’S MANUAL notes playing to a theme
http://om2317.wordpress.com/
it’s not you; it’s me
I told myself this silly story
I’m telling it today to clear the fog away
make of it what you will
or try again tomorrow to see
if my stories speak to you
January 2013
1 post
the year of prophecies has ended
find my ongoing journey here in the PostApocalypse:
http://www.tumblr.com/blog/postapocalypse13
http://postapocalypse13.tumblr.com/
December 2012
12 posts
dance into the new year
Enter Dancing That liminal space Between my body and air waves Creates a dance. Fluid form. There is salvation, Thunder from the heavens, Tears and lightening, A host, a feast, a conflagration. There is laughter. The dance takes me up In her motherly embrace, Holds me softly, Listens closely, Takes in all my sorrow, Lets me fly. Tell me I can dance The world becomes a mystery an...
PostApocalypse
Our Gang Outrage Depression facing outward Taking power to give it away. This entrained impulse See them crackling, jangling puppets at puppy play, bite, bark, entangle, grab and tussle, growl, muscle in for the kill. Bloodlust arousal. Natural as puke, as death, violation as violent orgy violation as ecstatic initiation to the brotherhood. Life elevated to dreams, goals, careful...
Winter triptych
Winter is Coming She arrives! Cold, clear, glorious crystalline air. Happy to roast by the fire, spin out yarn for warmth. Happy for cozy aroma of home and hearth. Euphorious, heart singing, blood roaring fun. Out to run, slide, ride through white mist, escape from resistance; engage with bright bliss. She alights from her carriage, a vision of charms carved in ice. Look into the...
Winter is coming III
Winter is coming She arrives Conviction strong and glorious Brilliant astral presence, at last. Swollen with destiny, swirling in ecstasy. Feel air breath-moist beat to Her sway. She drinks, uplifts the cup of our prayers, feasts upon homespun tales. Listen! She reveals. Torso spun forward, head arched back dervish aware. She incants, caresses, blesses, sweeps through this startled...
Winter is coming II
Winter is coming She arrives Glorious voice lifts up the night, trails splendor, soft drifts of white. Taste delight, pure as ice, sweet as fantasy. Soulful reflecting safe by the fire, caught by flame’s magic, aligns with the greatest of stars, the finest of galaxies. Wild Wind whispers “Higher, my love; ride my mystery.” Deep flow of desire; snow lit in moonglow. Reclined,...
Winter is Coming I
Winter is Coming She arrives! Cold, clear, glorious crystalline air. Happy to roast by the fire, spin out yarn for warmth. Happy for cozy aroma of home and hearth. Euphorious, heart singing, blood roaring fun. Out to run, slide, ride through white mist, escape from resistance; engage with bright bliss. She alights from her carriage, a vision of charms carved in ice. Look into the...
Turning
Golden night rises above high fields of fallen seed. Aglow, spirit of Pan serenades romance, lust, lingering hope of thrill and release. Amorous nymphs a’hum in ripe foliage answer in bleating rapture — chirrups, nightwings; mingled weeping and merry cries slowly reveal stragglers on night shores. Legends these hoary voices echo kiss and tell, and merry on.
Ignitiation
We willingly expose, offer blood and agony. Sacrificial phoenix, a’blaze upon charred altar’s throne. Seared eyes, scalded tongues; bitter acid drips to anoint, to hallow, to invoke, again and again to approximate perfection. Each coronation marked, perfume of condensing steam, carnate fluids. We surrender hope, our innocence, familiarity, for the freedom wisdom implies. Loosened...
sangfroid
Hunger too redundant for horror. Each night to feed wrapped in repugnancy. Hidden, alone, hunting streets of death. No hope, nothing legitimate. Days escaped in self-made darkness without relief of dreams, blocking memories, enduring. Creature of these streets, cold, abandoned, preternaturally cruel, air of sulphur, tar, pain of rot sans remorse or resolution, unnatural world without...
If the sky could
If the sky could, it would dream of stars nova bright raining through galactic clouds. Move inward as Sunlight descends. Cob-webbed lantern, too weak to flame, forgotten among rusted childhood trains, stranded tinsel, abandoned hero’s fantasies. Sharp cries, wilderness passing. What is not foreseen, not written for screen or stage, can reveal unclaimed aspiration, changing horizons. ...
Drumming in a Different Circle
Limbs, core, Limbic awareness Drums of my circle hold tight; shared stories magnify the night, chant rhythm through my day, embrace of safe vibration. Aid to meditation, listen in. Beneath my skin, blood flows to jungle’s beat. Quantum entanglement dance, essence of tumbling trance taught by memory. Soft sets the Sun as I stumble the shady side of street. Terrified I might meet circles...
Spell In
Focus certainty laser pure energy intimate presence ultimate sacrifice Commit! Submit to desire’s vast encompassment. Draw the circle. Say the words that bind to time and place expected. Accept responsibility for all creation inspires. Ground with grand incantation. Power is belief.
November 2012
19 posts
543452244565234213443214 asked: Love your poems! Been writing some similar stuff lately about how far humanity has fallen from its proper path. Must be a sign of the times
When All Fails
And it’s always on to the next adventure. Random leaves flicker roads of desolate neglect trod and cried over. Fallen, dark quicksand depths, flight essential for survival. Frozen wings, sudden sparkling cold traps damp, unforgiven. Bent below, tramps expecting handouts, bankers expecting deeds, women expecting hollow forcomings. There is no easy fantasy. Tales of fates and magics ...
Jung and Yang
Archetypes, subterranean schemes,
walk city streets, ride subways as commoners.
Shadow of Substance.
Ethereal siamese twin,
to the mundane, every day.
I long to tell you,
yearn so I loudly whisper,
but only if you really listen.
I cannot say these things twice.
Memories seep through,
acquire form.
Stand straight and true
as soldiers or Marines
swearing full allegiance
to any who will take that...
Divination
Tonight, the quiet sleep of Heaven
blankets tenderly, affirms bliss as promise.
Angel song, encoded blinks of highest aspiration, leaps,
wafts kissed smiles, clear skies. Peace shimmers.
Long, piteous, songs of buried shame, spite and spittle flung like pennies;
flagrant frenzied relief upon unclean graves…
Who makes this call? Who answers?
Tonight crows, patient vultures stand at...
neural circus
variegate shades symbols of ancient trade gaily parade coax wry smiles shaped to tease out sinuous pleasure cleverly she spins, sways, sweeps, catches a whirl of trance better than life her blood, taste of iron and butter, sweet, salt, serene the thrill is in the taking, the rushing and tumbling unobserved, unexpected, trick of the eye laid bare delicious secrets creep into...
deadweight
Far beyond cruelty into a whole other realm of horror, dishonour and disdain to observe crushing pain and serve utility by crushing more
This Is Not a Sketch
Not the fire in the belly, but the air in the lungs. Clarity. Fire warms, then burns in passion, flaming, shameful, conflagration of sin and victory. Buddha-like compassion, saintly wise, learned in cycles of hard labor, blessed bliss — messages like this mentored, memed, given credence in electric market, synapse scent, inhaled essence. This is not a sketch. This is awakening from deep,...
Speak in Peace
Those who lose their souls to religion Caught up in frames against their better angels Might, if the spirit so o’ertakes their vision Come to discern divisive righteousness’s dangers Speak in Peace Useful communication requires common metaphor. (Myths forged for tribal survival divide. ) When I feel alive, rooted yet wild, outside of frame a twirling child, free of security derived...
Call and Response
Clinging to the stories we learned at tv’s knee Ensorcelled by those glittering stores lining every street Sure that might has taken the ground defining rights Cynically forsaken, belief in heroic knights We aren’t sheep to slaughter, although of bone and meat Nor cattle to be ordered by our grades of beef We’re children, with our wonder obscured by others’ dreams...
Final Will
If these be our final days, bleeding out into entropic end No elite “may we?” can overrule life’s yen to feel fine while yet there is fine to feel Feast on the hoarded best; dance well past dawn Deny requests of war or debt to waste this waning time It’s no thievery to claim our hours, free of robotic clocks, take whatever’s left as a chance to be real — if the...
Cross Purpose
At time’s crossroads, Reason drowns in rage, pain, irradiated rain, treasonous air. Weary of care, of punishing, bottomless anger, of sobbing men robbed of their right to give birth. Taken from Mama’s warmth, from the cave, to play brave. And it’s ladies’ choice as you squirm in fool’s corner. Such a chore — kissing at this and that for a chance to score the...
Nature Cure
The wild has been bred out of us. We are creatures bent to city form. Citizens of common culture down graded along the main stream, abraded to fit today’s fashion scene. Wild instructions tug deep, feed bloodlines unappeased, misnamed disease.
motivation
It’s not that people are greedy; but (I hate to inform you) people are mean. It’s not that we desire the piles of gilt and coin — that’s just a ploy. We want to enjoy standing above the hoi polloi. We want with great passion to dance at the top of the heap, to be elite.
Waxing
Big, fat, buttery Moon. Baby’s face in the sky. Tell me why you cry fat buttery woe. Does angry Mars threaten from above you so far below, about to dash past rooftops down to the safety of setting of settling. Like so many men I’ve known. Where is fierce pride of independence? Why is the best we expect repentance, regret and remorse? So much more was on in the cards of romantic...
Economies of Scale
Sun greets Earth a hearty slap hot and sassy Economies of Scale Consciousness skewed out of the bounds of reality Living some self-inflicted insanity We’re all crazy, idiosyncratically Pretending at rational being Mass illusion for safety’s sake Shackling on identity — shield and sword to brandish Noise pollution obscures naked screams Who can afford to feel alive?
Aesthetically Rendered Themes
Desire Inspires Outmaneuvers inertia catalyzes action, ideation, attraction — magnetizes elements of essence toward true North — fuels adventure
The Play's the Thing
I see the secret of the Moon peek through historic mist over this hidden valley Dark cosmos surrounds, a deeply soundless eternity Gentle caress, self-possessed drifting serene All possible meaning encompassed in this simple scene The Play’s the Thing Needless waste of ruined lives rippling into vast tragic waves. Because? “That’s how the game is played.” That...
Free Sing
Was Luther a Gnostic and just didn’t know it? Who packaged Locke’s critical message and sold it? Who has freedom or its choices when money talks louder than living voices? Brain-shaper mad advisors dressed in vestments advertise “Profit is our best road to atonement.” So we build this fictional prison to own it.
Profligate
Deep in the mud, in the murk, in the sewers. Sharing convivially with cast out pests. Biased by looking forward to avoid looking up; sick of the sight. Mining waste of unappealing lives. Getting by surprisingly well on the barest belief. It’s not thievery to see value in what sin has left behind, sensing like one blind to glamour’s fads. Dancing along backbrains, pleasure neurons,...
October 2012
27 posts
Class Conscious
We make them monumental in our minds Assertively attest: ”They’re not our kind. How dare they go disguised in human form!” How dare they speak, to criticize the norm? To suggest some claim to what I’ve mined, refined to specs our kind defined as wealth? How dare these filthy beasts expect my help, relief for degrading and disease, consequences of our industry?
Risen
Sky born, lifted into life above Water, Earth, primordial mud. Bare breath and lilting light float, carry insubstantial tongues, bitter yet sweet. Exultation, daring to swoop, touch, taste, briefly complete with flowering waves. Winter Gods glaze over mountain peaks, rocky rivers, mother’s eyes. She gives suck embalmed in memory, engulfed in smoke of smelting flame, gasping, tropically...
Sacred Art
Wee one, brought bare into cacophony, this emergent pantheon. This is your place of smell, touch, blaring light. This is how we show our face annoyed with your lack of social grace. Immersed, made into a person, a defined moving space, bound in time, mesmerized roughly, softly, swirling colors, voices, hands demanding Outcast from warm womb, safe discipline, of tribal faith to create from beyond...
neur0 triptych
Another kind of rabbit hole Pitch dark and bruising No appetite for wonder No luxury of childhood fantasy No Summer tea time story Only caustic mud awaits below at tumbling’s end
Carry life Carry water Compact electronic battery Where colored codings float assorted cakes and candies carve traces back into the neural pool When the winds blow heady confection Perhaps the greatest...
cyberlove
I am in love with your communication Teasing photos floating in the quiet of storm lifting breeze You inquire, look for a temperature of my wellbeing I am on to you; pushing out that cerebral switch previously known as “off”
moonglow
Careless Luna She peaks and sways tattling on windowspeck gleanings leaving traces of singing memories taking in dreamers
Trained in Self-betrayal
It’s not that sex is sin, bad for moral purity, or euphoric nature’s gifts an affront on All That Is Holy. (Biblical disposition adapted to Providential vision, a biased capitalism based on self abnegation rather than a healthful view of wealth.) A powerful profit model built upon slavery of responsibility to dependents — sex for such purpose must issue descendants. Hopelessly...
Where the Wild Things Fade
Lost my ability to survive outside captivity Yet at my core impenetrably wild. Day after day unattended Night after night, no Moon defends my right to howl. I’m a city girl now — held in dimensions socially styled.
troubadour
Words, the challenge of song to carry along in sound the meaning of tiffs in lush trees, rambling bees, the power of peeping dawn high in colors of awe. Here, in a world of fog and fury, dirty eyes strained and blurry, hard-edged streets sparking with pain and dreary drone. Not a nourishing home, not a place to find peace, not a fit way to learn. Clouds, not of rain, but waving transmissions...
Sea Sons
The Sea is changing. Aging beauty, seething with rage of the forgotten. Once your tempestuous lover, violently seductive, wild mystery. Legends of monsters and gods poured from her essence into your sleeping ear. Challenge of fear and glory brought you to her shores, pleading for acceptance, romance, adventure and all its chaotic promise. The Sea swimming with life, unbound to expectations,...
Etherized
(from a fool’s journey) Will o’ the wisp wending a land of dreams Daisies, bright blooming weeds, mellifluous, grand. Whoosh! Genie arms wide into flight above foam and sea. Beyond fear, absorbed by awareness — sheer horizon confined by no mind, eyes or reason. Who imagines, and in that magic space settles to reside? Women in velvet and fur, swan necks, arrogant...
Scryed from my mind, upon this cyber page
It’s not that everything old is new again; or that nothing unique arises under the Sun. Creative thinkers derive and develop ideas already in their psychic maze. Meanwhile, unfazed, unasked reality evolves along its merry way. New maps for old appear each day. Most of us just follow the crowd, caught up in focus on our current task, using what tools come to hand, what we’ve been...
We Didn't Know
Efficient development requires deprivement No profit, no playground to feel alive in Those few groomed for career cheer, mocking “Can’t you hear; that’s freedom knocking.” “Work for rent, or stay in school, dude.” You get no cake for being a loser. Orwell warned “Big Brother is watching.” We didn’t know he meant on you-tube. We didn’t...
Pageantry
Could Christian Fundamentalism be the dread AntiChrist, and greedy Wall Street his ravenous Beast? Could the Second Coming be prides of young claiming back the streets? Could Prophecies feared and hoped to bring Sinners to our knees to lift the Holy into just reward by Blessed Hero’s mighty sword defending, avenging the meek — Could that parade be before us, just not the scene we...
Glow World
Go with the glow, bioluminescent inscrutable bright night flare a grove of ashes a nest of vipers a tangled garden lair The forest is old, wild road stained in adventure, obscured in ghosts and mysteries, sculptured by drifting seas, fallen stars, exulted pleasure, eternal embrace of decaying leaves, sad savagery. There is primal fire here. Glowing coals that never relented keep warm our restless...
Protection
I wind into a tight cord expel ice-tipped thorns to repel your good intentions. You are not my troubled mind. You are my always touchstone, my center of reason, promise of peace. In psychotic chaos, moments torn, my instinct turns sharply inward. Primal wariness, protection against irrevocable reverberations of violence shattering our sacred bond.
