Let Darkness

Let darkness be
but gentle
the soul of my girl in the world
my soul made in the mold of
a woman.
Let darkness speak
in nonchalance with light
I sit there,
watching and also feeling
the sunset on my skin.
These good equilibriums,
well then let them
crown, but crown no one,
let me be one queen of humanity
amongst a billion.
Let those algorithms alone
and let them write the treatise
of this poem
until the Thracian plebeian ladies
live free
with their parmesan flakes
outside
by the farmhouse.

Flugelhorn Stars

Why do the flugelhorn stars
touch so many of us?

Just a bit closer to the mountains
born across thousands of planets.

Mountains all across many homes
we look at
in the midsummer sky
remembering something
we carry in our blood.

Our eyes call out.
Joyous.
Celebratory.
Lonely.

These are gold, far off
flugelhorn stars
that
our theories of physics confirm
these
theories that made and make us.

Azure Dionysian

It is through buoyant sexual azure
that I’ve changed the world,
known it, navigated it,
been changed by it.

Vibrant berry azure
on the edge of my dark brown eyes,
lustful in all those moments
when someone speaks to me,
them to me,
me to them,
feeling and knowing
this ripe berry energy.

Azure Dionysian,
as your days turn into
something closer to heaven,
lead all those to their sexuality of spirit,
their freedom.

A Social Drug

When a social drug happenz

The people of the world unite

They gather unlike before

looking for their brother

looking for the sister inside their self

Then they put down their technology

They walk down the street

Look for people

Find a person

Then they ask for a hug

they ask for love

The Hill

Over on the hill
the trash trucks line up like
gigantic old snails waiting
for a chance to discard
their 50% load of plastic,
50% load of food waste
into the county appointed space
for depositing trash.

The trucks come here
day after day
until the space turns into a giant mound
and a refuge for buzzards, rats, and pigeons.

Once the mound is too big
the trash trucks form a new line
for a newly allotted space to begin
building a new mound.

And this goes on indefinitely,
in the name of humanity;
the ever-expanding solution.

Throw

Throw your Stone Age religions
of laws and fear out the window,
the Great Rightening of Civilization
is here.
The dawn of humanity’s childhood
is ending.
The cedars and the oaks
have known,
known for so long.
Or else,
how could they lose limbs and
still live?
How could they mold and rot,
bear both the dead
and the living
and still be,
still continue to live?
The Great Rightening of Civilization
is here.
The trees will lead the planet
hence.

The White Druidess

The brown druid
went into the green oak forest
and came out the white druidess.

The brown druid
spent time listening to the slow
beats of the trees,
kissing their mossen bark
to his lips,
and talking out loud to them
in the clear language of the
common tongue
until enough of the miracles the
trees did do came true
and that endless ancient light
cracked through
into the brown druid,
turning the he into she…

and thus walked out
the white druidess from the
good and ageless woods.

This was in the 7th year before
the Great Rightening of Civilization.

Scalar Message In A Bottle

What if we could take our
video games
off with our gender?

What does that mean?

What if we could
take our gender off?
Going into
the markets of
market capitalism
that
needs labels and names
for everything
partitioned, divided, sold, and
discarded cheaply
underneath
the solar star sun.

What if the sun
demanded itself destruction
for all underneath it
that has underwhelmed
it?

What are these movings
of waves
and energy?

What is this
end to
the binary peoples
and
their binary civilizations?

Why did they
form their civilizations to be binary
when the sun
and all underneath it
are gradients,
scalar principles,
infinite stepping?

Transistors made here
can perform
stepping sequences,
but the people here cannot,
they cannot do this
mentally, nor emotionally.

So they will
die
and they will
destroy their planet.

Pussy On Hand

The scent of
your pussy on my fingers
makes the drive out to the country
even purer
in the morning
with the mid-morning sun
still working its way up into the sky
burning off the last of the dew
on the green and yellow
wavering tallgrass

The coiled fibers of tallgrass
remind me
of the small curly blonde hairs
bunched around the sides of
your forehead,
weedling undergrowth
aside your larger strands of
golden brown hair

The tallgrass speaks to me to be
sentient and live

Love Of Relativity

You call it 23 hours
the past day we spent together.
I call it a lifetime.
That is how our moments feel.
These relative things.
Do I have the courage to live them?
Lives that come, go, and pass.
But I plan to see you again for
another era,
O spirit still spinning in my heart
into
the stars.
The stars have left us spinning
forever.
As us,
within us,
across us,
between us.

I can’t reach your lips.
Your eyes always celebrate Spring
in their blue windows
and still see sadness in the world.
Heavenly mortal.
Into
the stars.
Eviscerated.
But living here, now.