i never told her where the fear comes from...

Everyone walking around with fears in their eyes

I feel that
There is something so important about being human

And that it
Has to do with something I'm too scared to see

But it is
Not death.  No, it is bigger than death.

The fear is
Why don't you call me what we both know I am?


I can't I
            am too scared to see it.

Because you
Are afraid of what you need.  You're afraid of what you need.

I felt it
Again in the ocean of his living, liquid eyes, bordered by the paleness

When it comes
And passes so quickly, what is this restless fear?

How is this
Mystery that stretches to where we cannot see but in brief snatches?

I want to;
I have to face the fears in his eyes because

They are in my eyes, too

The Eyes of God

thru the cobb wbs
thru the crssweir
thru the bldig sn
i saw a robn
pikng thru the grund
nd i knu i wsnt aln

a catalog of books i bought today

Look at this weird eclecticism:

Shakespeare- King Lear
Orson Scott Card- Ender's Game (the third copy I have  bought)
A.A. Milne- Winnie the Pooh
A.A. Milne- House at Pooh Corner
J.D. Salinger- Catcher in the Rye
Mary Stewart- Moonspinners

It seems like a well-balanced diet to me...

A

Lines.  I'm

tired.

Lives.  I'm

tired.

Life- BQE?

Converging lines.

Live converging

converging lives

Converging tired

Converging lives

Live converging.

Lines.  I'm

tired.

Lives.  I'm

tired.

H

The atmosphere is domes of color

And music the backdrop of the sky

I inhale the veil of tranquility

And exhale a perfume of summer nights

He sighs The love is not forgetting

Of vivid scenes in a dream awash

In latent memories taking flight

He sighs every note of the rainbow

I dare not forbear the exhumations

The deadly, steady air

I think, express! and veritable mice

Tails dragging, slink towards the river.

Then to mountains of little fires

And forests of carpet orange

We hie.

If feeling is more than images,

Then last night skittered across the floor-

A beetle, little legs clacking

Virulant girls, hair a spinning

Send out like eclipsing planets

Their life, dripping down the walls

Rocking in the moonshine

All baskets made of bread

And sanguine figures looking dark

We all heard the breathing

Of a thousand trembling souls

As the capacious seizing

Broke our mended toils

East clap to the rise

I bent on sutured knee

Rising heathen and wrought

Of violence in the sea

Ah to my dear dreams taken

I soothe cannot claim to mean

Any but justice rambling forth

As in the service of a higher one

All except for none

Walking around

Looking so much the penguin

That even the haunts

Were tripping over themselves

In a sort of rabid frenzy

So that the air was

Frost on the stars

I breathe in deeply

I am trains in the night

I stop in clover

I run to the post

I am flowers

I am sleep

In scarlett sheens we repeated the holy mantra
Oh I'm a ghost
Oh I'm a ghost
But the first wouldn't come
And the second went home
Then the scarlett cleopatra minced her way forward
"Just one bottle please," uttered with fervent prayer
The charming toy-maker brundled forth in heart-shaped offering
An appeal to the furthest night
Engaged and spent on every last hudson. River.
That's just one place...but it keeps flowing, he said.
The Danish flew to Denmark, but not just to Denmark and
The birds flew east they flew west
I dreamt on every peninsula, wanting,
Hoping of trying the unravaged bar
Dropping times dropping toppings until
A last sunrise
We went up down the street
If we ran fast enough, night will never kill.

This summer, I WILL sleep without fire
And the forecast is sky!

jingoistic

I can't hold S
And CT together
In my fumbling arms
While little cars crash
And my sleeves are rolled
Gisha prime the top down
And the lights are fine

heavy words that move

The several emeralds of agoraphobia
The machinations of something so big
Heaven heaved at its turning
The distilled seasons pass through a filter of time

Birdgrass
When I close my eyes, the room is good
The room is white
The room is clean
The room is sparse
The room is good
When I open my eyes

And the bird lives in a cage
And the bird lives in a cage

In the winter morn, the grass is good
The grass is white
The grass is clean
The grass is sparse
The grass is good
When spring unveils the day

And the bird lives in a cage
And the bird lives in a cage

Like a photo of skin under the microscope
It's craggy, desolate, and expansive
Like something you reach for
It keeps removing too far, eternal stretching
Like trying to laugh during a funeral of a friend
It just keeps on being wrong
Like knowing it's really big
It's something you'll never see

a poem of words that made me golden smiles with black circles...dream

Struggle war sheep chk chk chk
Tremor howl sigh unhh
Tomato ("aw")
F-fall (stutter) oh
Hands that hands ("pshk")
How a how a nigh......
Rael run howitt "ftt"
Boat ohhhh ohhhh smolder
Vrrraa boat akin tandem
We do yellow absolute love ahh hh

Put a book of love to my lips
And I would recite poetry all day

She said

Red rocks roll tumbling in the sand

Fountains of dust arise

She is

And we forgot that the sky was there

But it was, and there were stars

She did

Like the endless curtain rubbing

Against the rods holding the night

She swayed

And then I realized I was sorry

For the red rocks and the night sky

She cried

Purple flowers rose from the powdery earth

Covering the dunes, a mountain

She climbed

I stood there nodding, for love

Still sorry, still hating the flowers

I turned 

the wait

"Just wait," she said.
And so I sat back,
Stayed my hand
And watched the white ball
Pass the edge of the hole,
Roll back and forth.

Patience.

This is the universe
Come to me heavenly, still-
Fighting near me, dear.
"Maybe something good will happen,"
She said

everyone undertook to be 

walking-talking like they
knew what they were doing-saying
showing off all the rugged masculinity
of cheerio boxes

come to us on the road to Damascus
give to us the sword of manhood

       help us to s...ing!
as we cradle our bowels in our arms...

your voice is swallowing my soul.

 strange voices and i awoke to

tip-toe, sandy tongue tap-tappping on my eears-

wrapped in a blanket and absorbed in heartbeat

my only fear became confidence in knowledge

                               knowledge in confidence

so i'm a                              frayed of you

look, just because your heart is in the right place

doesn't mean your feet are rightly treading road,

we, heavy pattern of inconsistency

i dreamed Damascus! 

an holy road raiséd in the midst

 raised up to hold the easy pilgrimed feet

was settled into by another errant servant,

the burbling beast with jaws like the ocean

gently again, spewed out,

raging waters together,

the flushed and dripping man to the edge of

the pebbled road

but it was all in the sky

        a reflection the earth wass trying to be

then i said,

 "i want to find another

who let the arrows of shame

sink and settle into his heart.

the first arrow slowly shudder into chest

the second arrow sink him to knees

the third arrow pull to the ground

And the protruding shafts

 catch before face penetrates earth."

the arrows come to all men

the specters are the unfortunate offspring of William Tell

while the substantial are walking around all with a

Genius heartbeat

and then I decided

my back would be metal

and the springs above me

would be a magnet

i felt the magical tug

fixing me into place

gently pressing me

now comfortably attached