• Brand New Day

    I could once say I knew nothing of the brand new day.
    It hurts, yes we feel the pain.
    We wake, we learn to we wake
    We see, we learn to see.
    We see, the same eyes learn to see.

  • Damned Pout

    At the entrance of a dingy colorful little shop
    With mischief wares possibly counterfeit and shot
    but harmless from demigoddess dealers, friend tenders.

    How's it been I've been looking for that love lustre, blue buster,
    general tonic, super sonic get me outta here.
    It's in the back room just keeping going towards the back room.

    Bought Clout
    Loudest Shout
    Heresay Tout
    Damned Pout

    Through hanging beads, fabric, small talk and dusty coughs
    passing box upon box on top of unused stuff.
    Looking to get what I asked for from the dream world.

  • Swallow Me Up

    Textures of water, a rainbow fall, stunned the wannabe know it all.
    Standing at the entrance of beauty, the source of all things, a
    cathedral library.
    Soft light pours onto poetry, the space between unknowing and knowing.
    Volume upon volume stacked neatly on wooden shelves, prism glass of
    painted windows glowing.
    A heart stops, a head spins, resting at the core of I am.
    I am whelmed with affirmation of this experience.
    Back in the seat of a lumina van, year 95 slips into fashion again.
    Flinstone orange sorbet pop fell on the blacktop filled in the cracks
    that lead to the deeplands where beetlejuice sand snakes hunt for those
    who can see compared to daylight the dark isn't scary. It's unbridled
    fear that has no boundaries. I've stepped out side.
    Swallow me up.
    Textures of water, a rainbow fall stunned the wannabe know it all.
    Blatant chaos and connection, an infinity sphere, mouth agape for the

  • Center's Here and Everywhere

    Found an armored thought, punched through the wooden rot, touched a
    fresh blot cut my cause brought down cluttered drawers separated tangled
    knots considered what's been bought and what's been not.

    Defined my chin rubbed my skin oh I feel it a deep purple sinks in it's
    all those early flowers of spring.

    I'm singing a song wants to be song part of a clutch paternal pattern
    drenched then wrung then hung next to the mother whose been flung from
    the cavern to the open just so quick like this like this.

    All this words aren't from thinking or meant for intellectual
    consumption some semblance of noise means something penetrates solid as
    though moderately viscous a venous tunnel leading more to nowhere I lean
    in a whisper: Anyone been here before?

    There's an echo from my body says yea yea we done did this you been a
    good tracker? Been listening to your teacher? Don't mutter! Don't lie!
    Stand upright cause all those "suppose to"s don't matter little camel.
    Anyways you're projecting human forms onto inbetween creatures but you
    see your little deep is your deep analagous to other little deeps
    blinking on infinitely you see you've gotta see

    center's here and everywhere

    Did I make it back to the original matter time? I think I'm find but my
    face is melting and the whole world passes me by. I'm just so grateful
    to make it back alive (each time).

  • Puzzle Eyes

    Hello to turn and go
    dried to burn to glow
    foray to bellow
    paw before paw
    claw by claw
    touched foot falls
    a grip a haunch a lip
    staunch tooth curled amiss
    eyes forward aimless to run

    puzzle eyes, behind them lies
    above them, round them

    meaning maker
    sense taker
    want it
    take it
    throw it to the wind!

    myriad calliope
    gallivant freely
    a brute force, a candid farce
    oh my lord goodness gracious!

  • Daydreamer

    I'm developing a picture of my world.
    Ten threads spinning on the loom.
    There's a blind spot on my right and an open field on my left.
    I'm looking, looking, looking.

    Look more closely at these memories of stardust, pieces been seen left
    out in the sun.

    Framed in red sumac the fire of autumn, window to the rainbow around the
    sun. I've been here, I've been here, waiting for a mirage to appear.

    My golden arms out to the side, in a dream I learned how to fly. You
    open your mouth, take tree dust in, the color of your eyes changes. Like
    veiny wings breaking meniscus, water being with feel the wind. Gold
    tadpoles, squirming earth, my checks will drum and glisten.

    Yes I'm another daydreamer.

    I'm developing a picture of my world. Cut ribbons swirling into the
    abyss. Mud between toes maple seeds, pollen float. I am the goddess of
    my own world.

  • These Eyes Are My Eyes

    In shadow of a light placed trust in mystery and ever present beauty.
    Laid my hands on the book, grasses stuffed by the handful to sustain my shape.
    The fog shot me down. Sweet hands helped me to the grounds. I fought my eyes.
    This sought for feeling - how could it be reality?
    These eyes are my eyes.
    In shadow of a light placed trust in mystery and ever present beauty. Sweet hands helped me to the ground and there I saw a smile. Still I fought my eyes.
    Gathering pieces of me from the field of dreams, the riveting inbetween.