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.

Born & Birth

Can we born and birth ourselves?

Something in our body did.
Something deep within us.
In our core.
Our origin. Our beginning.
The hours here after our before.
One end of the universe
to the other end.
Right there in our forehead
and our skin
walking within panties or boxers,
walking with the beasts in the fields,
people in the cities,
trees in forests.
Walking by those elder elms
a whisper known to life
the turn of death, the turn of birth
known to self,
a self that does not begin nor end.
The moss on stone.
The mushroom of the kingdom dead.
Estuaries of darkness,
tributaries of light
in every genome and atomic particle,
programmed and programming
space and non-space alike.

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

When A Human Loves A Cat

He’s not even my son.

He’s not my flesh and blood.

Not my species or countryman.

He can’t utter a word of human language.

And yet I love him with all my heart and soul,
every ounce of my being.

My strange genetics to his ancient, long genetics,
laid there right across the universe,
side by side in this unfathomable miracle of
the same moment in time.

I say it with courage,
I say it ready to crumble in endless
sentient, fecund melancholy…

I love you Bleuets.

Serve the house of the masters
to destroy the masters,
undo their myths.

The little, mighty cat.

Star Fields

At night we lay with each other
a human
and a feline
across a place of star fields
we dream

Penthius
Prosthylkass
Zyvar

Places of the endlessly living

Bent fist and paw
we claw
back to mortalhood

With the sun bleaching out
what was known of spirits

we wake to live with
and love each other
not knowing why we love

what has been made amongst
the particles
pronounced in arrangement

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.