Tag Archives: sharing

From the left seat I can see that you were right

11 Nov

I reside in heavens

when we fly it’s very clear

the bigger organism we

are apart of/from up

here/now vision clouded

with/by ether, our lives below

the bible thumping belt, so rare

did you think I wasn’t looking when you quietly ordered

yourself back into submission from the menu

or was that for those to whom you say life is good like comfort food for breakfast

on saturday just before noon in our pajamas with the radio playing/the smell of grease

and gasoline in your hair, citrus on the wind

real maple syrup and bacon/your favorite

race on television. We did things

on that leather couch that would embarrass the children if they existed

we spooned entire days into a bowling ball bag

you won/lost, as if we had nothing

more important to do than touch each other until we did

or maybe we only manufactured that/you

came down from your mountain-top to pull me up

and I was so grateful I gave you things

to desire instead

of me/but when I called down to you from mine

you couldn’t hear me any more

than when I used to tell you

I had a dream

in the night/you reached

out for me from your

fear of light/sleepers

women pilots

weak people

distrust

and we would fly

blindly, madly

in love with passenger seats, advanced

stall warning recovery

whether predictions

down-shifting, flights planned

restricted/visual ceiling fan rules

taking precedence under the covers

your feet my pedals

clutching, crabbing

our forte

negative g-forced

free fall

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Suspicion

3 Nov

“People who can’t write verse are paranoid and suspicious about things that rhyme.” – R. Sue

 

 

 

 

People who can’t write sentences are paranoid and suspicious about everything. – J@M

Nuevos palabras/New words

29 Oct

Knowledge – the way I learned to spell this word is by remembering the phrase “know the ledge” which I always pictured in my mind as something to stand at the edge of gazing down or out depending on my mood.

Somehow, just knowing the ledge made it perfectly acceptable to be there. I often enjoy the view.

Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for everyone involved if no one ever got to know too much about anything, especially the ledge.

conocimiento
knowledge, awareness, knowing, consciousness, familiarity, cognizance

How to be Free

2 Oct

Come closer

I want to tell you a story

Shhhh….

Listen….

Can you hear me through the din

Within?

I want to tell you how easy it is

To be free

I want you to know
that loneliness is a myth

That happiness is your birthright

That your destiny

Is death

And that I am just like you

And you are just like me

And it’s just that easy

Close your eyes with me

For just a moment

Can you see clearly now?

I want to show you something

Very important

Look inside.

You already know everything

You need to know.

Just listen.

There is nothing you can say that hasn’t already been said. Nothing to write that isn’t already written.

Truth is only waiting to be proven.

Outside the infinite confines of your mind

A galaxy folds back the sheets

And crawls into a lintless bed

Shhhh… Listen.

Mother What Have You Done?

1 Oct

You crouched behind a rock

Holding the first one

An egg cradled

In your armor

Your amour

The second one was stronger

More like you

Independent, instinctually intelligent

You placed

The third one in his arms when

You thought

It died

For you

Mother, why

Set me to float away

On this dream of love

I’m still alive

It says downstream

With the voice of a man

Exactly

But he doesn’t want to leave

Just yet

No one really does

Chapter 3 – The Silver Flute, Pt. 1

26 Sep

This is the story of a young woman who discovers that the mystery of life lies not in death but in the desire to live.

Like most people her age, she is deeply depressed by the current standard of living ie. those established by mainstream society to achieve the “American Dream”. Or maybe she is just the laziest sun ever risen. She feels the nineties have nothing offer. Money means debt in her middle class world of woe. She sighs, thinking of time past and wishes for a more romantic age. In these pages you will travel with her on her quest for a reason to exist, however far from suicidal she believes herself to be.

Life is a series of ironic jokes and disappointments to her. It is difficult to decide whether she should laugh or cry most of the time. Death is the worst joke of them all. Hell is reserved for people stuck on earth and heaven is what you make it. This is a mystery.

The Silver flute gave her confidence and put a song on her lips and she strode toward her favorite midnight meeting place. The neighborhood was not such that young women like her should feel secure, but she did. In fact, she felt safest in the middle of the road because if it was anybody’s territory – it was hers. Besides, a good solid silver flute hung over her right shoulder to be wielded as a weapon if ever she came upon trouble.

Not many things in her life gave her such a feeling of self-possession. At the age of 21, she was constantly reminding herself of reality. In high school she thought herself a loner in the midst of the popular crowd. An entire existence was birthed for her then, along with its twin—a passionate nature that would cause her much grief. She led her life as an Miller-Burroughs inspired adventure of the seediest kind. Her classmates were often under the impression she was stoned and she did nothing to disway them. Perhaps she felt her cover was better kept under a cloak of narcotic bliss otherwise known as sheer stupidity.

Furthest from the truth is what she shared with those she thought to be below her because the truth is we come from people much, much better than we are now. Or so her devastatingly shameful parents explained to her when she came home high again on their example, but all parents are equally disappointing to their teenage children. It wasn’t that her mother and father weren’t good to her. They gave her everything she ever asked for.  She was the only girl in her class with both of her original parents which has to count for something. The house was nice and mom always kept a beautiful garden in the front yard perfect for picking flowers for the teacher on the way to school.

It must have been a stigma – too much television and not enough veggies. She once smashed a roach on the forest green and gold shag carpet in her room and before she could find the nerve to pick it up and throw it away there were a thousand-trillion baby roaches feasting away on their own mother. Soon after, she packed up her Barbies and decided to move.

Her flute had been a gift from a friend of the family. Upon hearing her play he told her he could not keep such a fine, expensive instrument for himself – a mere novice. Yeah, he talked like that. But he was cool and he rode a Harley so it wasn’t like he was gay or anything and even if he was, well hell that would be cool too because he was big. Like, I’ll kick your ass just for looking at me sideways big thought I’m certain he never had to raise a hand because one look would have been enough.

To be continued…

Chapter 3 – Yes

26 Sep

We have kissed

Connected, killed

Affectionately

Dowsed and drown

Suspicion

A scorpion underfoot

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