47455241 the Chronicles One

8/7/2019 47455241 the Chronicles One

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The

ChroniclesPoems-1Hooshang Danesh



Copyrights 2011 by Hooshang Danesh

The copyrights to all my works: songs, words, notes, paintings and letters are protected by Three. My will lies

doubly therein.

One Tree Press



A Nursery Rhyme

The only evidence of GodIn the whole universe is: loveThe perfect solution toAll deceptions isLoveThe only breath that holdsYour sureness together Is loveThe only dream that leapsYour mendForever isLoveAnd to mend and mendHere goes our Love—

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Abode

Take abode-in roached and-

filthy frontiers-read classics,take-nervous-notes,hope for never-coming-literary-careers,with eyes already trained-

in not-seeing,and ears,oh ears,listening ,never-hearing,

we soon become:pop-stars,

we all live on-waste-lands,

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AletterToArrival

(Am I,turned-off,to the shelter of-her eyes,or to the-long, dark-yearning of her-face,am I too blind,mister?(or that,yous,

best-than-I,-Intosoothe,-the ragged,

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unleased crests-of each-stays,(or is it, that I can-recede,lightlyinto nothing,of this so-

briefly,fleeting,

now’sand

then)

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Am

I want women, only women-this need in me, is auniversal problemsolutionI follow universaldiagrams (childcontrived by universalcollusions, I am on thecarpet died, sketched into purpose

be-all looseness,I want women kind, draftingmother-child re-unionsI am into absolution-jiveneglect-not love child-not-teen-perusal,I am into womento unweave a larger-

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mat, the artisan-at-work-sign, to weave a new style-childa child of solutions,I be what I need to be-am—

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AndreaPoems

(I eat the bread she- bakes-(she bakes and then-we mate sum-(some was born, the other year-(son rules same-free goats of-andreamedawest-(I drink the beer she-

brews some,(And still, we-mate-and feel, look for--our verves off-the milky way,(We quarreled then-

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much-we still quarrel-much-But its like we-in heavens-now,and-quarrel-sum-(only to claim-again-and-again-the crackles-of joy, only-a few can wave, mend-and make—

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Andromeda

(But the horses knew-the horses drank from the spring,-sobered like axioms and-felt the kindred-tingles of their skins,-the rouse of their-hoofs,the tails fly across-the spume of things,(The horses knew, the-seesaw was-not ever--adream,

beensince—

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Andromeda-west

I want todisappear into-the scent of things,into the very end,into volumes of perfumes,the skin of inflatable things,into andromeda,into her west,into her stellar apples-laid to rest,into the motion of things-out of the stillness-the vast flowering of all thingssans dead,forgetting all the round eyeballs,gazing at my head-forgiving no other-

but myself,forgiving no other-

but myself,

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Apart

It can’t be made believable,that you’re loved by us,or by them,

but more-so-by-me (who invents you)you’re wounded,impaired,desirable only-in fits of tales-that remove us-as an object-of-love,apart,

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Avalon

I danced withall nine sisters of Avalon:Firstopened and closed my eyes again-I fell, broke my leg-Secondforms perfect curves at a store-there is dirt under her nails.Thirdmade me come into Africa–

just to open the gates of hell-Fourth

brought me food and weed in her forestto put an umbrella over my head-Fifthmarried my ghost-

just to steal my jewels away-Sixth

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was a double blonde in school-she came and took pictures of my face,Seventhis the one I invented and named Tara,

she is the one I like best-Eighthis stretched out in terrace,waiting for a slate-

Ninthwears a collar on her neck-I wish I’d never spelled-

3rd is the one I loved most- but only the 7 th-seal, is- safe-

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Baptismal

(Do you remember-the water from the-fountain,-the baptismal sieve,that paled your,whisper,your cries,-remember you fell-silent,-raised like a turtle-dove,-a gaze crowned,your brow,(that day you -were born to-love and life,to remember the only,truth isgodislove,

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Bastards

(Do u agree my mates-that we best,

peaceful bastards-incowsi-uni, moo verse!spreading lust, love,morelusthoneymoons- infinitum-stealing cantos and verse-(damn the torpedoes-and loaded for the bears-hail the little dipper,the perseus is cetus,(and is riding the-meda to sp -ain-

ace-

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(please, the queen is-coming up for-air, every

bleedingten cents,the swans wailing:“rescue, god, save”--“and you wanna meet,Mr. Orwell-where?”

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If

If therich don’t

pay for the poor,their ranks,will bereduced for sure,meaning they:

can’t come back to thesame floor,which isalmost as bad as dyingand not coming back-for--

to lose a tier-is to paint oneself-(in colors you don’t wanna know about)

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Boomerang

(The reducing ranks- the-officers,are the make-sads,-who must raze you-with crops, their-own-to hoist their own-sacks,(and their sacs,diluted-concaved,curtsied--and sunk like-(unerring mathematics of-

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oppenheimer and-the general-staff,(they subscribe-to nothing that-may trace,or fetch thescents,of,an unshackled-

bounce,(welcome now please: the-mathematics of-

boomerang,

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Conejo

My eyes discover you,in your cage of sounds,it’s a trick of the belly-dancers-mi amor,they hide-in the spiralsof-tus cenizas-and thenflattened on your back-a cloud of silence-(racimo de uvas)a knot of knowing-(mi amor)-inside your eyes,and there,

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my words become-visible,(for one fleeting moment)and then retreat,(arde norte del mundo)and the sun dances over your cage-(mi amor) and you dream-of jump-(una, dos, tres)

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Creation

A rather large universe-Two-

followed a cozy world-I think rather warm,and psychedelic,orange and all shades of-ruby red,sore, And blushing-with invention-(And you and I were There,which explains-your rose-red lips,and the salmon-pink of-your forehead, when broods,(And then the serenity

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of it all ends, in theQuaker grey- and these-

jaundiced hues, (today)(the whales were once-

blue,

Glared for miles and miles,they soothed you.)

Well !(My eyes are fire-red againmy lungs ache like hell,and I smell like a dead star,not the smell of blood-of sweat and ou tears,

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(All I can think about – are those Monet colors,my dreams are of-aqua green, and meadow brooks--pairs of fern, spread across-verdant aqua blu-

ues,

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Creatures

(creatures that walk-upright,-planning their turns-away from--the curly grass ferns,and greenish scenes.-they turn and turn,leash unhand,-concrete-metal,internment parlors,-by pallbearers fields-(and the creatures on-four hands--tempting their-

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mesmered,strapped-dominants,-with coaxing smiles,wide teeth,-and be-allsounds--to walk this way-that way, the Eden’s-land,(but….man!!(oh, how I love,

being a dog – again,

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Dreams

There’s was a valleyOf pigeonsAnd of cubs, kittensAnd suchAll wounded by one, me theThief of the valley of PigeonsAnd eyes and tecsAll creatures prettyBreasted and teemingLike innocence fitTo invent,Cooked potionsBaked illusionsWhile playing:Fantasiestuec

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Caprices in D,All in the valley of PigeonsAnd calvedbeingsCubs puppies kittensAnd coltsCast naked uponThe valley of pigeonsAnd milled d r e a m s,

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Dreams

I slept next to her-to hitch a ride in a dream-her shadow-took me – to what used to be hell-she made me miss one beat-and I entered alone-to my right was a toothless witch-she slid into the-dark and said my name-I blazed a line around where she sits,so Cane knew where she was hidingfrom-there were men sitting on the floor-concrete-and-neatthey were calling their planes-for safe passages up-here--I looked for Pam,

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-called her name twice-her spirit said-

“Pam is gone-to Nashville-to record a song-“I woke up, Pam was still sleep-

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Eve ( Mary )

If she don’t come into each one Night of dreamHere on earth, or Jupiter Or the one where my home isFor a timeOh, if she don’t fallJumping on eachSpring

NightLike a bunch of Softleaves off theTreesThe blue-greenTreesShe paints much

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“she, too is a paintingshedreamed”

but if she don’t comethruI’ll die, and notOn so sleepless a night

No, I’ll die in theBeginWhere she is butA flower in our Seas,Seas where Love-was-not-Is, and Iam tooAdreAmd,

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Fade into You

(Loomed , worked so hard,-on the edge-of common-accept,(The inner innate-is fazed,fading(And the doubting too-dismounts,disarms,further (still),-and the fading,fadesinto,faith,and faithis the light of the creator,spinning endlesscenters,

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Father and Son

Shakespeare objects tothe writings of his-son-One: they’re always about-women-Two: why do they alwaysstay in rhyme-and don’t go further

than the father would have

preferredThe father: would call avase a vase, but for the flowers that weren’t

planted byhim-

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The father would have spoken-of the sadness-inherent in love-from the beginning,The father would havementioned howtall the son was-and how shorter-sadness feels-The father would havewritten a tragedy-far superior to mine-I only speak of love-(and not its tears!)

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9

When she doesn’t exist,I exist in her,and then we are both the-existing-eternal,I’d render her,careless, useless,call her-mother,

but she neither isnor are,she is a creator’swish,and her will is not alarmed,though whomever sleeps with her,

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will be fear-fraughtif other thanus(2)--who’ve slept in her-in our death,

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Feed

If only, I-could be grafted on-to some tree of-oath,some floral leaf of-confirmation,The unfoldment, would-lead,The vessel, and seeds,into Sylvan-(And feed, more-the looming,absolution,

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Feet

Your hanging feet, toes-crimson roses inabeyance,like the tight-rope walkerson the streets of Paris,or you can become-Carmen instantly dancingthrough your Spain,draw the curtains girl,I wanna dance alone,with the cherries,that are your toes,

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Fever

I know where ageis taking my mindwith or without my consentwith or without my enthusiasmwith or without its dissentits taking me toslow movementsto contemplation and reasonto ponderous decisionsto where I’ll noticeevery seasonand feel no fever,

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FifteenAll

(There’s fifteen of us,-all-in-all,(in each time-caption,(Hosts to-all forms of: way,-and mission-versesof: soothe,said see-pleaseness-everywhere,(And though I’m vagabond--mozart of:tis frozen-still-suaves of:subduers and subverts,

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(I’m endowed--eternal measure,to:submito-succulent love-where?-and when?

(Tis tradition I’ve--learned- I knowwhere?(But in successive--folds of wife-mother--and sister (who are not all one--and the same-

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-and yet each submerge inlove-like: with strung out-

-stoic and stirring-

-wings of stone--they down-oft,

-and dither-in clay

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Flowers of Mary

(Mary: your daughters,stand stretched in the doorways,in clusters of shadowy hours,tasting of innocence,ignorance,(of your perfumed body)they say they will be dust:(mas polvo enamorado)they never see-their sharp transparency,which is you:(their sleeping mountain)they come into your dreams Mary?

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each nightwhen your body is sleep?(haz de tus imagines)drowned in music,wings open, spill,unseen,

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Fool’s Gold

Unfortunate:is relative true,don’t knowwhy I

bother with anything new here,Relativity:you’re a fabrication of time,in any space of existing-I am walking on the wall-and wait for the spells to sink in-fool’s gold-

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From on

Tell themto throwthe mistinto the windthrough tis tiny apartment,for from on,there’ll be-no other sign of-altogether within-one storm-within-one room,within one world--for from thereon

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“there be nothing--known, as so-

beautiful-as-true,as you”--

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For The Chronicles

(Killing airs, and black-thoughts,-are waved in,heapfuls of-untruth,-each day,(And though I’m born-to-

well,and amongst these races,-am exhausted in this-labyrinth,(For seashore after-seashore,-is bricked by:cainnights, and their-illwill,

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ways,(And though my fate,sows no glory,-but service, and-

perhaps some self-brightning-days !-I can no longer endure,these invaders,-let the foes post-me the martyr,(I’m happy to shawl,tis life,-around their-headless

bares,

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Goo,d Fighting

They are watching us-Predatorprey-A game , (you Know) how-well,We play,(thousands-and-thousands-of-years)And then: there are alleys,Fairways, various sports, (toplay)-But if you have to hunt:You’re too far-and-inferior-For these games-(And we are not that“patience”(We not thoseclans)

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( us y born,of love,(and thousands and thousands,of years,(well),(that),out of love-God,creates man--divine, eternal,

pennant;

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Hanging with the Living

You can onlyAscend if you’re two-Meaning you have a living body-That watches over you-And you must put all-The cash back-In my safe,For you can be led-By none other than-My-Self,

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Hope

The wordscan existat any other pointwithout them,abuse-lessnot ear-less

but weight-less-fields- of --gold,they ride saddles,

but no horses will-throb-against them-(here)nor -love-renews,

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them,(here)still, gods may flourish-in other abodes-hope--

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House

I’m going out,way out to the south,to contend with all that-they call useless,I’m back to the plow,and the peasants-who smell,the pungency of wild-horses,I know I’m bound-

bound for the houseof : no-walls, no-lawnsand no more-(I know I’m out),---

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I know I’m back-to clean out the floors,to turn the other cheek,to the nays no more.I created this house,in my name,to exist within it,you must always confirm,

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If, When

(Breathe your wings-your eyes’-rest,on mine,in-respire

peace,Breathe those eyes-for, in their-softness,the ghost in-me,wings,For, the most-withered,undazed,amongst us,Yields,

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In The Window

The first family of theUniverse--she whistles her own tunes-When she wears her emblems, the colorsof titan red, cherubim’s-redness of burgundy-wine,Which she drinkson occasionswith vegetarian plates of-carrots and bell peppers-sautéed celery butter-

beans.

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Asparagus garlicedand-corn bread,All grown on earth, thePlanet of heavens,fertility, else-and:imported all to Callisto andGanymedeJupiter’s largest moons,Where the best restaurantsare in the milky wayStill the shuttle is lateand she keeps whistlesAnother childexpected in the month-of May-

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Strings Attached

Stars and planets null-they give it no more dimension-than a blind in a store,where you come from-is clear,where you going-is up here,its made of strings-attached to one ring,the ring is alive in a sacrament,it slowly becomes chronicles,and they’re bunch of dogs,awake,

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JovianMoon

(She’ll show me poems--I’ve written about her-(I’ll read and,find failingsin them,I’ll eagerly claim:“I can now do better,”(And shall--so much more-to be said:(on the scent of-her skin in the-

jovian air-(and her toes-

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-meander on the jovian-

pave-“they mark mycease about-her sate”(and this time--she will marry--me,for a jovian

pool--on some starry-

jovianmoon,-and then may all pools-

be oceans-beds,

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-wherelay-loveabsolution-lends:“hey poor-men-tate-sooth-is-every-where,”Everywhere,

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Juliet

They come through the doors,one after another,their detention is unfastened-

by no other than yourselves,whose rivers take turns-in painting them in all colors of desire-

but can’t –be- had,their thorns too obvious to myself (but not you)what’s the trick of dispensing unusable?one watches Bethlehemeyes red,two is in Vienna

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fertile, arrives when I’m already- dead,three steals rapture and ring,O’ Juliet, what deluded ghost-spawned you so near our grave?

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Knowing

(The ghost of-knowing,has no stella,no monuments.-boards on no-

peasants, bids on holidays,-everyday is as:tomorrow was,-as yesterday is.(but the ghost of-admission,-is imbibing the-

big-brothers,anyday,“they’re only mal-odors,away,”he says,

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“only then, we the dominie,of the sane,”“only when, darkness,removed,we’re received ingrace,”

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LosingFloors

The thoughtthat miserymust existto bringhell back is as dead asthe richwho lose a-floor everydayto the thoughtof beingexclusively above -while slowly going under,and that’sso themeek shall inherit

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the earth,and that’s a fact,and though,this won’t go through,and open its-leafless armssomething deeper cleared-and brought the-wheels closer to the tracks-of love-

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Love

We’re all getting ready for-Something,Or our livesSpent,In perpetual preparation

Conversion,Radical-reclamation,Like some kind of

Stars, planets,Nudged in motionBy: angels,

We wane and ebb,To mount some-Sure circle,

Far Or I can’t know,

Why,

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We move each momentous-Loom,

Breeding,Persuading: climax,

Cradle,Climax-more,

I say: love:Is

This love !-

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LoveTwo

Love:She’s met-(And you’re two-(when you meet her-

n-you are o eShe two-Becoming-

o en

“love you two”(And this reverbates-tru-too-“two is loveso love is-

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must- o en

(must one to-be-two-(to one you need:all-and-two-(identity is all-and-two,

r (all-is-currently: th ee-

me,

she,

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MaternalSpaces

I always carry an appleWith meAn apple in my pocketFrom a 23rd century treeIts fallen on my headLike a tokenKeepsake(like love!)I awaken in some long chalk DistancedI measure(not) this asloss, then-

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(why not!)I know I am-But I amMourne what may-(may not)so, this apple I carryeverywhereand soon anywhere iswhere I am not (what!)I should like to call myself Mr. Newstein (Anew)-Its my short for Newton and Einstein (Gods!)Things seams brokenIn both space and time(I seem fine)

thru—

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Meaning

-meaningis to create love for-another,and then your sing to,tis one,the only one,-rings truer.Than imagine,(when you give love-you see what’s-given--your love

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Miracles

In the sequentialexistence of your moments,in the now-laid down isthe true shapeof the truth,where endures:holy,sensuous,religious,love,eternal,miracles are its-

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Mirror

She lands on me her unrooted

passion,and as she is,mirror is my heart,as she is,a thousand butterflies,watch her fall into pieces,as she is,mirroring my thoughts,her rainbow is formed by doves,and why do I look so starry eyed?its your mirror, my heart a-firefly can spin me around,Oh, don't leave me under your waterfall –your -mirror, is my heart,and what if the serpent,throws me a rock,

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Motherlove

Mother love’swords on loveSo sensibly drawnThat any unwishUnwiseFor gobbledy-gook Is rested upon: unmetment

Not-requiredAnd she,Is into loveLikeShe is intoAnything,Like everything’s-Intensions:Love-greened,And see: I write

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NowFor love-repressedIs now: descend-Into-seenAnd for: I wasOnce lovedLike aGod,

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My Sailor

MeaningIs

be-fore –itmeaning:the futuredetermines thefastunequivocallyor let the light,lift the,tombstone-magistrate,or--the light can not sit behind me-foursquare,for no one will be born here,yesterday—

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Natalie

You’re a conversationon a phone,minutes filled with

presence, absencea length of timea beginning, an end-you’re the notes froma book,the length of a sentence,a Jew, swan,a lake-you’re a large pale mirror,through an invisible glass-an object of love-distorted,incensed,unknowable-unfoundloved back-

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Yes

Avalon:you can’t dance with-anyone but myself,(or dance with heaven)you were held high,in their eyes-of love,and you aren’t left unattended(forever)if you fall out of the doors,down-filled with us,and rush-for everything that isnot ever-present,in the tiny squares of life-

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there’s no one-left for-thee-threeheaven is forlorn,if you keep us locked,

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Nothing Again

Approach of seeing-approach of knowing-also-in-line. (universally human)

place oneself inside-this realm. (she said)

place thyself inside-my realm. (she said)

place spirituality inside-thyself (I said)

place nothing-(I said).

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Oh--

Fear,love,

jealousy,are all-configurations of time-and-space;without your

physical beingness,spirits feel nothing-are nothing,

belong to nowhere-fall in the cracksthat weigh no-ore than-a stone,

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thrown down a well of-no one’s home,for even silence-is a curve of the space-oh,

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Paired

(She, grounded love,minimal,-the thinnest of-all scales,weakened, and wasted,into bare,-love,hid around,fledging,seeding,each-her-stares-(what, to call back,

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to heed?-oh, do let,whatgrounds-love,

be dis- paired,

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Park

I’m gaining weight-I’m earning the medals,I’ve gained-what an awful accident-The medals I’ve gained--aren’t mine,they come from sorrow-that’s not my park!

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Pen

My mothers areAs causative-creative as ICan be with words, tunes,their lives: Careful selections-of- volition: Dilemmas, Scylla –

and -Charybdis(not-love or love-not) rather what’s options, adoptions,ornaments of love,“self-love, his- or -her-love, universal-favor-love, I’ll -invent-to-love”All forms of love(My preference is only aself-shelter-ness,a harbor of love, by-the-roadside-love

“The lilting jumping love

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carries persistent-unfadingacross times (through)Even whenno acclaim-reflection-consented (why!)But all love lives-for defianceis lovelivedisu

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Ray

I’ll be MozartFor one dayAnd he like to kick thingsWay back A beat of his own:Everyday is like SundaySo, you pretty ornaments of Love guarded:I’m Mozart for whole oneDayMozart write in dashes of red-

NessCausal-pivotal-embryonic-

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BurnThey say: he always had the best DokeinGifts from folksFar-aheadOne must bear presents toTravelOne must be Mozart toAccept,Without prejudiceI say: I’m only trying to understandHow to flicker with as muchGraceI say: I’m only trying to seeGod’s shimmering the firstOneRay

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And I know think the cynicismBut I wish to be MozartEven if for just oneDayAnd I know that I’mBut then

NotMay,

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Reading

Reading them to sleepmust be incredible,and as a new baby arrives-each day,I know reading them-to sleep,must be a panacea,to you too,you who-were read only,the exhausted accountsof last year’s Bookkeeping,an exhaustive account,and just a lexicon-

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of complications and numbers,But reading them to sleep,must be incredible,For each day,you could be marking,tracking-All that you thought-you were never-read to,

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Ellie

Ellie-is the spiritof cain-who shallaccept my ring-again--and happinessis the stream of-her scents, her skin-

into your future-and ours-Will be aunion of man andwife,unbroken-in-Africa,( remember this)

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Point54

You’re pouringover my headlike alcohol,like violence:repeated,repeatedin dire goblets,in graves of scream into-tiny sinus cavities,forever and ever,the vapors of alcoholof your breath

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on my brainLikeknives,in the meetingof there,and therelessnessinverting heads,forward, back down-again,

between going and staying-of your betweenness,into tiny cavities of life-foreverless, you are-

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Requiem For Love

I was dreaming of dogsfinding them: perfect strangers-and wanted to write a requiemfor scarlet, and her sisters—their lilies of summer-their asymmetric lust, debauchery-flees out of perfect love, patience-how they bang anything with a pulse-in the world’s drowning--of objects, various and steady,the odors left behind them-

-of metal boxes-of drowning virgins-I wanted to keep the treasures of the day-away from them-with a requiem of silence,

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Rooftop

(My one true spirit--was down,way down-(her Shakespeare-dead,-and the only colors-she saw,(where of a lobe-sided,sphere,-fainted,cained,-like a grin-touched by-

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the crown-of-fear,“thou shallnay,the hand of-god,

disap

pear!”-and the spirit,virginal,still,-even knowing of-it’s earliest-own-

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fears(released,(like dews, and-lores,a new-color out-of the pristine,skies,calmly-greeted,

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Rose

-A poems like a rose,rose from my fingers-did it rise out of thesorrows surrounding it?yes

andno,

It rose out of its maker’s-

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Ruins

College poetry,hold the-scenes,

professor-ships, bored with-rule.write ennui-off,in journals,and lie still-in ruin,

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Same

Same-sameisn’t love-Its meaning is the exact-opposite of love,it means:I’m in des-paired,save me:from myself,again and again-means:

I’m no longer desired: by anyone: but myself,

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meaning:I fear death,so I die-within myself,lest he carry-the universe by himself,“but god is other than yourself now”

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Sapphires

(never repress any's nature--all seeds don't bear the same flower,-all not sanctifiedin the same oldway-(each has beautyin her robe of nature,-each bears its pearl's,near our wells,(and under the same shade of skies ,-you are find veneration anddesires, heavenmay veil compassion,(doves may veil breasts,sapphires,

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Sara

I am unself-onscious-and there’s a softness,I can’t make out,-make my way into this garden,-caned –bloomed,his-and-her stuff,she asks me to run on this earth,so I can have her name far,and there’s a breeze-“I run for her”there’s a sign in the skies,under the oracle,under the red,far from the sun-

-114-





Scarlett

I know if I meet yousomewhereI’ll find myself inside you,I’ll tremble at the thought-of your beauty, its truth,I’ll wiggle, shuffle and be like the wind-in your veins-you’ll waive your waist slightly to the leftyou toes will nod unknowingly their stems,I know if I meet you somewhereI’ll find myself again and again,

-116-



Soheila

So, sheWas love sicknessSupremeAnd her breastsThe surrender sizeOf her breathsWhich were hilary-greenAnd freshed, poured inIvy ViennaStreamsWhich how sheMoved on the floor Too

-117-



Over wool Afghani rugsShe turned and turnedCreating S I A S

P R LOf:Quantum-movesWhich wereWell,Like traveling onThe speed of lightTo the house of Gods and back And still stopping atEach point in

E W EB T E N,

-118-



Spirit

(Spirit - my soul,and verve,(Is given to -with care,-not distinction,-not measure,--not concentrations of-matter or air-(Its given in the name--of love,-in care,-its given to you,-from you,(It means- there’s-one god, for eter-nity,-and in heavens--name,(Trust me,

-119-



Spring

Only if, my thoughts-were thinly populated,

by fragments of-so old,-but these ruins still,lie,in the blue,folded, and,folded,-like dead leaves,and spring, you-say,“is everywhere!”

-120-



StillWell

(I’m tuned-never-parented,and always by spirits-who wear these-suits,-sometimes as armor,always as-

berths of noble-souls,(I’m tunes-was planted.-billions years ago-and by no-

-121-



ghosts or hosts but-me,-whom, how I-stillwell,my soulalone,

-122-



Stones

-Ripples in ripples,theatre for-theatre’s sake,them stone-agers,make one, wish,-alone,(make wishing,-for stones,a horrendous-tone-to be deaf and-dumb,the idiot of the-

plains!

-123-



Striped-Again

(We shall be- born again--striped again,loved again,die again-Oh, eternity,Hear this:we shall die-again,died-again,-we shall be-

born again-in god’s-lights,

-124-



Sum

(Einstein is here too-aswell-which is why-my ears pop,each single coordinate-of poems, across so-Interval Many

lines of say, (In Sum…..she…..(In Sum, she,issumrockingGoodTime,

-125-



Sun-days

(Unsuccess, oh, how I-hear your fresh,scents away--will you see me -through to my own-

berth,-or shall I wilt-in tis, my old mate’s-aches,(Oh, please, you, me-unsuccess,the fruits of-thine eyes,lulled,To thine own awakened-ways?You see— -not

-126-



that love is-Two,-and only true,-if that love-too, the dew-of-slumber in,thine-own-sweet-golden-(sage!

-127-



Surfing

I am surfing tonightsurfing on the cyberg’ssurfing on the edgessurfing on the Saturnto where I’mneededand belongedI’m shopping (now) for my ownfeaturesand (now) myown mother’s (eyes

but I am surfingto wherenowI am certain-to where love discardednowmust return

-128-



I am surfing now for myfather’sand now my ownChildren,surfing to all that-is seethedall that’s’ ruinousunmanunkind(surfing now like a God for now God is mankind(surfing like aturtlein t i m es,

-129-



Tan-haa

All divide-in the stream-of o e – permanent-

nsand,It wraps around-wherever you are,its who we are-entrenched-in this fire,surrounded,

by the hiss-of summers,

-130-



cloaked-daggers thrown away,we are-in one permeate tree-

pendant,upside-outthe scents of things-

begin, and ended-while you walked across-this aloneness-(tan-haa)

-131-



The 5 th Street

Along the 5 th streetThe beggars lie stillAgainst the windTheir arms twisted likeMooringsAnd those bottles of seetheSnaredFor 99 pleadedPrayed for centsThe rank of earthSold over Sainted countersBy small menWearing moldedSteele, and Oh suchStares,

-132-



The Roses

They were not of thetearful order -though they trudge toduty, each dayred-eyed and sullenfacedand the dark dusts

banes-laid orderedto claim their inner outer chaos“to watch their tears

-133-



in heaventhe intentions of the dreadful,the faded ”-the roses stilllaid

bloomedunopeneduntil the frightness,shrank-

shorn,and the hills of rescind always

re-appear,

-134-



The War

The shooting war ExpectantsTarrying hunger withUnabated breathAnd the doors all whileClosingInto their war infestedFates,See: the Saturn contentionLeaves his houseTo turn stone intoEggBut the egg is guarded byStoneAnd the stone turnsAll carriages aroundThe world is itsGolden nest,

-135-



TheVex

(The biggest pockets of base-laid-out, not-always,on the queen’s hell’s-gates,-The vex, came and-too-often, than-not,(From the piecemeal-of this verve,-becoming darkly sons of-the heinous count,(And though, each may-have had it’s use,(The Mob, wills – the unengaged,

-136-



The base,Into forgetfulness moors,-into where,the quench takes.Those, whoever-Passively,Intrude--

-137-



Time

The artistryof travelingthrough time,is the charm-of those of us-who can’tand won’t-for the symmetry of-unknowing isa touch of Grace,than not-

-138-



TombSay

Mined on a hill,and lifted on wells,and tips,I rained a million-tears on tars,and feathered your fears,-and now I’m passing on-to the suit of-night,and I know not where-

but if not, for-the tips on-her hills,and the mines she-

bared me laid,

-139-



I’ll be leavingtis berth,in fits of rage-and not these breaths of-fair,

-140-



Unification

Unificationtheory,is a lanternsuspended inthe skyunseeing,its not whatI amIts whereI’ve beenand always

be there,time-

-141-



sleeps there as always,in its tower,and you?you’re the arch the hangs the flamein its power-

-142-



Unknown

Mozart tuned by Shakespeare,-developed complete,and reduced like a spelled-cosmicflower,

-fell on the face of-all-possible,-the entire,

(and grew up to bethe crown of allthat’s’ not-to bethusknown,

-143-





Wayworn

It’s a thingThis lonelinessIt’s a thingWith memoriesTooThoughts like buriedErstwhile ghosts-come wayworninto these moods-they come-not tosoothethey come like kniveslike creepers in the nights

-145-





Whales

(If it takes a million-years to-lose a-thought,dread(And it is, truly-dis-rupting,(I mean the salt-of-thehearths, blow-right into your-face-

blinded,(And the sheep, wolf,-holler like-madness-

-147-



in-carnate-(And the skies dry-out,40-seas-seethed,(So, please don’t touch them,whales-and-animals,-child,(For your oceans--will lay-

bared,(And don’t ask me why--you know too well-to not-just,hear-and-hail,(trust me,

-148-



Wreathe

I feel liked I've had her I feel like it was warm, joyfulin-sideI feel like I've confessedher met-her in-placesonly (the –wistful understandI feel like a beginner,

braced and embedded, takenlike a surname a-

piece of ornament-standI feel like I've met her,wayfared-and-swaggered,taken-her-likea wreathe inside out-(I feel like I've met her-(I feel like I need her-

-149-



Your light

if life's a dream,may I wake up in your arms,may you be still sleep inmy armsand if I rise again to ruenyour lights on,

juicy thighs turned on,will spark,your eyes again,loved again, will you cryagainand wave again,in time again,and may I grow to findmy poems, your notes again,may I be invented in your lights again,

-150-



on pages which look likethese againmay I rise,withwordsAgain,in-

your light,

-151-



What’s Love

On the borders of-marvelous,I am a star-on whether, what takes-Place-or-not,I am period far,and whether your loveliness-faithfulness- real-or not,I assure you, I’m only-your sac-ri-ficial-lamb,for whose sake-for whose love-you can ( not must)set the worlds – in motion-

-152-



for whose sake-you can be-endowed.with-loss,

self,

(and love,

-153-



Buddha

My mothers, lovely witchesBreeze by“Oops, breeze doesn’t describethe storm of their witches

broom,

but my mothers, the witchesstorm by, in their

best pant suits, likeghosts in business suits

they wear ornaments, medalscrests and featherson their weathered suits

they always say:“what a cute boy’ andstorm out again

-154-



and I never look behind mestill cursing the firstmother-on-a-broomwho came and wentimpassive-bl

ue,

I still recall thedust of-the-first-broomsettled on the-window-panes-rooms I never knew,and I am Buddha--

-155-



1

I can do no moreThan chorusLinesAt timesThe suits, their tasteSo biter So meddlesomeThe dread soStrongThat I could do noMore thanRemovedOrdainedFor me too strongAnd kick back, sleepFor dreams toAngel , andI am)wo

ne,

-156-



Allure

(The spirit of-intensity,-didst keep its eternalscent-for I thus exalt dwell,around its blaze,-and for the full-echousage of,its fervor,I see ardent-lovers,keep gather,everywhere:if the softest,saddest,may wed vent,into

-157-



itsritesof:"Look! Usgood-lovelightsMay-

pair,"

-and for, whom the-sacred-bells,tis allure (intense-tolls:'only in you , I may-care''only in you—

-158-



Birth

Billions of moleculesBeat, compose a human beingIn a frenzyRosy blur And are lightly shuffledWiggled to any other PlanesThere,But they go so easier stillIf shivered frozen-Lover’s glacial-coolThey beat a lighter still, whenImpassioned hormonal-ReleasePleasure-Domes (mate)Whenever she is here

-159-



I am morpheme d“whatever that is”

but I am consoled into poetry and existencea fly on the wallI’ve never beenBut whenever she is-I am restoredAnd mendedGlacial-coolAm birth,

-160-



To Saul (St. Paul)

Its’ the larger world(the sung world,the spiritual world around you

(not-entrapped, but benevolence-governed-in-light-world

(so, I couldn’t accuse or groan-(like a child-(for a child I was indeed-at last, and-

(and a child needs grooming- (a groanis lack of that,

and our adults may be dead! (but may- be the adults still, forever-still.Are bellowing light through-

These horrid nights!(and so I felt hosanna-hilary-

funny,for the hermes-of-tis one light,

-161-



(and the light-itself-its’ nature is-

non-divided,non-ambitious,and timely: its’ not,

like you and me,its more like— silk, not sleek(life,

but smooth-silk, in an-endless sari, soft-and tactile- limbered-

around our lies,lies, lies-

(BellowingSilkMellowLight,

-162-



Give

Do you want to recede To move-into a blighter orbitanew furrow-groove

do you needthe pendant-stillto lureyour view

further further-still

into soothe-do you need to speak

with your eyes only

-163-



wait your truants’ unfoldingdo you comeback

repeatedn,

r educ

ed,

-164-



Harvest

(She has Mona Lisa's smile-and queen Charlottes face-of bohemian-(coffee houses-

And discothèques-in Prussian-townsShe is met any time any where-

(and though I've-been appointed to her-

court,(soft-silk-elegantfur,

“she is milky,beautiful feet,”

-165-



-and though sunken-purefine,

the center of her-empires,

(I am, but a servant-who gazes after a day of harvest— -who stares at her window,through the distant marshes,

-after a day of plowing-the hay

-166-



(she's the window I stare-at,

through a haze of lives-

and : "Oh, what a feeling, to be always near her sight."and this: goes on and onthrough the-harvest,

-167-





put up one more black hole,There n the corner where the lawn joins the patio-edgeless,(right under your nose)there, where matter-not -consumed faster-than expected by even- Gods-alone.Fold,

-169-





I am into womenTo unweave a larger-Mat, the artisan-at-work-Sign, to weave a new style-ChildA child of solutions,I be what I need to be-Am,

-171--



Child

Your ding, dongs,never wound the horizon-

the ghosts guard-the territory,

which is only filled by the vein of words,and the whispers of

their sap-rushing through,

\ into the Sun’s skinOh, don't dream of hunt:They bring too many-

nightmares (Lucy)and they can wound you-deaf and blind,in the distant stir of your spirit!

the river of dreams can't humble-with their tenderness (then),

-172-



nor love will renew your-being,

with unhesitant kiss,

Oh, you anger stricken prey of-young doves-

oh, you anger-stricken child, wait-In the silence of the clocks-

to reborn,

-173-



Fish

Poems well-readgive all birth-

betterMeaning(for it may just be-

that you and I were-born,

to the sounds of-dust settling-down,

on the shoulders-of the prettiest fish,

in the kingdom-kind,

(which why-I dream.-wet dreams-- you?all night,

-174-



Birth

Billions of moleculesBeat, compose a human beingIn a frenzyRosy blur And are lightly shuffledWiggled to any other PlanesThere,But they go so easier stillIf shivered frozen-Lover’s glacial-coolThey beat a lighter still, whenImpassioned hormonal-ReleasePleasure-Domes (mate)Whenever she is here

-175-



I am morpheme d“whatever that is”

but I am consoled into poetry and existencea fly on the wallI’ve never beenBut whenever she is-I am restoredAnd mendedGlacial-cool

Am birth,

-176-



Witches

Witches without pen-Carry themselves low,And lilted, slippery-evasiveTreacherous- but reliable

Fools.(I don’t mind their-chicanery’“stealing my pen”impersonating-subversive thoughts in-my head-“liars of first magnitude”

(and I’m not really maligned by-their-

masquerading-my-imperfections,

-177-



I am unspoiled, unscathedBy their tools(scars are mine, not )But to steal my pen.Is pestilenceAndTorment-cruelHell.(for each pen- I lose a-

poem,a thought of-creation-

a-cum-maylose in-U,(then), U

-178-



God and Man

Spring, you have comeso unsparely, so stealinglyall of a suddensexis everything all around theundimmed street beech trees, thesaw ferns in the lobbies dividingthemselves,and all the animalson public T.V. excitedconvergent like tourists atDisney land,are we such animals too,like the rest?is it true spring?are we closer to monkeys than Gods?

-179-



why this sudden urge to attend,to socialize like beesto mate like rabbits and sealsspring,you have suchtangible existencefeel you in my veins like a new drug asthough I am a teen again!answer me spring,why are we so effected by time?are we closer to monkeys than Gods?and why am I suddenly

just a man?

-180-



-

How far is Vegas

How far is Vegas from me,and I mean no one understands,her replyof all the blessings which to mannothing except, pre-exists,amazing new laughter shot like a flower on pages restored(feel)and by the hands which are constantand protect a certain peace,

junipers crowned the silence thatshe, working her tail off,

put on a pages,where laughter is restored,and you,can exist,

but what I mean is: :"how far is Vegas from me?"

-181-



Love

We’re all getting ready for-Something,Or our livesSpent,In perpetual preparationConversion,Radical-reclamation,Like some kind of Stars, planets,

Nudged in motionBy: angels,We wane and ebb,To mount some-Sure circle,Far,Or I can’t know,Why,

-182-



We move each momentous-Loom,Breeding,Persuading: climax,Cradle,Climax-more,I say love:IsThis love-

-183-



Loveis

(show you the way back to love, back to where my riverheadyour fountainheadspring from,(back to where loveis-(and for a timefor all time allthe world is builtaround U +me,-the world ornate- nascent,unveil, christen U +me,(into where?

-184-:



streamed down to buildonly confirm,to found own, its brazen,failing-:(sinnotchild:Loveis,

(into wherewherenessdefinesU

wherenessstillstirsanew,

( where?

into,

-185-



Mate

(The universal goat beenin-love-with theSirius ghost for a thousand-Years-(and more(I am only in awe of her brilliantsmile- deep oceans wave,and the way her- eyes,reflect the verves whenshe meets my-stareswhich are dispatched and surged,only in unescorted graspof her beauty-(Oh, her almwaifed, savvy –

beauty-

-186-



(But what can explain thisfevered state, where her eyes, her gaze- both,greet-and-inflame!(And is she not universal- rush, haste,(Is she not both desire-and-the-invent-(Is she not eternal-ismymate,

-187-



Palms

Streets with palmsfar extend anys’ abilityto count timein measured doses,undiminished by all the hurryingsigns: like the metal rocks,the lucky charms, synthetic

breasts, leaping mounts-nature-less,streets with palmsspread the sand through in torrents,the heroine's nose arrives ahead of her mind, and-oh not in the clouds,

-188-





Perhaps

Her responses are likeno one understands,its like the desert city, she lives on-onlythe healing of fountains can startthe little face of a boy the-surety of Sap rushingthrough that head,And the too wide sandals

pointing perhaps to their lure, perhaps in a perhaps land she must endure! perhaps the perhaps in things,is the prison of her soul,how does perhaps teach the throatto reach out and not-open?

-190-



Relent

you brood like adeed,warm and coldyou seethe like theglass in a jar,"prowessunrestrained"if you break intosand,and brittlefor thegiven of theseeds,

-191-



Repetition

They are good to singto utter is perfection too andto love thy neighbor,is a given-gift givengiven for not-sing only -givenfor perfection,for foresight, forebodinginsight-(given for imitation)given from U, to U,from U,given as an invention of U,( I am in repetition for-U,

-192-



Ripples

Ripples in ripplesTheatre for-Theatre’s sake: them stone-agersmake one, wishalonemake wishingfor stonesahorrendous tone,: to be deaf and dumb,the idiot of the

plains?

-193-



Roses

Roses are just a memoryhere,ghost of a keepsake,those sweeps of white andred,the yellow Gloire De Dijonarewhere?the concrete-metal spiresdon't feed their verves too well,,they lie like nailstheir petals draught-inflamedtheir scents shed into smoglike tear-stainsand if they live by somesorcery,

-194-





Sex

My heart says:Hush no heatBreathe in noFrozeThe broken oldBellowedLike a drunken boreAnd Oh, I can blink Beneath it:“when no ruse

blind meI lay no season’sSoared.”And for I hear above me:

-196-



Let the sourceThrough them, inQuantum’s of deepRedIn fields of chilledHeatwarmedin,holdhold,

-197-



She wraps

when she wraps meupthe weight of her hair,in my handswhere flowersmust have descended for the weight of her hair,makes me grow humanagain,fertile as the dark earth,and I can let go of that whichis silence, weary andtremble in between her hair,and her hands

-198-



which gently unclasp andhold me tight,only then like a soldier I stand,wrapped in between flocks of hair,where flowers must have slept onlyto be held tight by my hands

-199-



Silence

No one borrowsFrom silence

Now his melodySleeps with the deadDefinitive, pureWith no final echoes-To be heard,But the sound of-Its maker,Calling h o m e,

-200-



Spark

that we should be so raptin a love affair

but life is ingenious,and what traps U(me,is regret,regret deep as existenceregret deep as your ironic eyes,deep as my need for U,deep as if we committedwrong-(but we haven't)deep as if loves'-certain,(its' not)

but deep, on the edges of spark-sensual,curiousspark,

-201-



Still

the light is, that beat,all around youunited, knitbyeach new landingfrom these spaces and times,and all those absolved ghosts,frozen and unmoving,was regret interedeternal,friction left behindlike sleep!andyou and Iwill be there,endured, existed,

-202-



chased and completed likea new breezeweepingweeping,the dreadful-loversof still,

-203-



The Roses

They were not of theTearful order -though they trudge toduty, each dayred-eyed and sullenfacedand the dark dusts

banes-laid orderedto claim their inner outer chaos

-204-



“to watch their tearsin heaventhe intentions of the dreadfulthe cained ”-the roses stilllaid

bloomedunopeneduntil the frightness shrank shorn,-and the hills of rescind alwaysre-appear -

-205-



Unfinished

The unfinished alonenessUrged into sieveInto hollowBy the cruelest attractionsLike spring,The unyielding springFevered intoPainInto someWieldingFountainheadAnd finished like love,Like the hand of GodRe-appears,

-206-



Unknown

Mozart tuned by Shakespeare,-developed complete,and reduced like a spelled-cosmicflower,-fell on the face of=all-possible,-the entire,(and grew up to bethe crown of allthat’s’ not-to-bethusknown

-207-



Whereroots

(This moodobeys,tempers midway,intoabstracted,

bemused-(this mood,

painstakingly,disentangleswithdraws,-remembranceof things“menacing dues,”(this mood,estranged fromseem.lovewher eroots,

-208-



Ghost of the world

A rather large universeTwoFollowed a cozy worldI think Rather warmAnd psychedelicOrange and all shades of Ruby -redSore and blushingWith inventionAnd you and I were thereWhich explainsYour rose-red lips,And the salmon-pink of Your forehead, when broods,And the serenity of it allEnds

-209-



in the quaker- grey andThese jaundiced hues (today)The whales were onceBlueTheir spirits shell-pink Glared for miles and milesThey soothed youWell,My eyes are fire-red againMy lungs ache like hellAnd I smell of bloodOf sweat and your tearsAll I can think of areAqua-green, andMeadow brooks,Pairs of ferns spreadAcross verdant aquaBlues,

-210-



Dreams

I can do no moreThan chorusLinesAt timesThe suit, the tasteSo biter So meddlesomeThe dread soStrongThat I could do noMore thanRemovedOrdained

-211-



For me too strongAnd kick back, sleepFor dreams toAngelAnd I am,won,

-212-



Mona Lisa

I’m warning youMona LisaI’ll be chasing youAround the stablesAnd chairsAnd what if My clothesDirtiedAnd smellThe saber-HarnessedTameChasing-Mare,“what you say,you not-a-mare”

-213-



but who walkth

you to my breedinggroundsand everyday

but those painters’legsof a mareand toes of an unsaddledwaler,mooring

pair-me pare!

-214-



Two

Love insatiableTheoretically, inventivelyIs harmonyMeeting in fields unseeingLove insatiableIs longing for Yesterdays, and hope-in-That turningLove insatiable isComplete by me-and-Love

-215-



Not (aloneRemember: love insatiable is

Remembering thatTwo isLoveAnd zero is two-UnknownI’m meeting you, remember,“where?”where two is not-meeting:I won,wind,is-thenmy,home

-216-



In May

The first family of theUniverseShe whistles her own tunesWhen she wears her emblems the colorsOf titan red, cherubim’sRedness of burgundyWineRed,Which she drinksOn occasionsWith vegetarian plates of Carrots and bell peppersSautéed celery butter Beans

-217-



Asparagus garlicedAndCorn breadAll grown on earth, thePlanet of heavens and fertilityElseImported all to Callisto andGanymedeJupiter’s largest moons,Where the best restaurantsAre in the milky wayStill the shuttle is lateAnd she keeps whistlesAnother childExpected in the monthOf May

-218-



Trust me,

When the doors openWhere the darknessBeen reigningLike thieves butMuch worse, thieves of Infants and thievesOf faith and dreamsWhen the door opensTo the endingOf the last un-witA few will never Come back You know who you areYou are a punisher In-the-night, been an instrument of Evil and not GodTrust me,

-219-



Thru

Salvation tooIs liberty from extremesPoverty no-means homelessnessAbuse of self, and othersSalvation tooIs to batheWith the poor To wash awayAll seeds of discord and hateThis need to overcomeInjusticeIs to please GodThrough and thru(trust me

-220-



Love

There is only one causeOf allThe source of all is thisLove is the offspring of oneAnd love-gluedForever WonTrust me

-221-



One

When the verveCaptures my ownIt falls madlyOff-un-gladlyInto all our knownFor the fruit isLikely, more-lyTo beThan not,So the question wasIsHow what to beAnd how to be in whatAnd to be not?I hear, there is too jealousOne God,

-222-



Assurance

I assure youI’m not all goodOr all badI assure youHeavens are notAll so dividedSadAndI don’t purchase shameIn every frontShame doesn’t belongWhereWhat’s good here belongsWhat’s not-good excisedBut not goneAnd what’s not-known-goodIs learned and taught all,

-223-



What endures is a problem

Solution timesTimeThe more revealed youThe larger, farther, moreRevealed in youYour timeTo enlighten is to be human

Not-aloneTo expect in passivelyIs to deceit humanityTo be a pawnTo be movedIs to not playThe game at all,Trust me

-224-



Seven

Seven wise men of GreeceSeven sagesSeven wise masters of biasAnd thalesFolded their loveVims together Yawned their way throughThe fakery of chasmsBut I loveSo can I beBreezed throughYour screensFor seven months is long andInnocence is reallyInner senseAnd I love seven monthsOf bone of my boneAnd flesh of her flesh(love thy be kind)

-225-



Tomorrow

I canBreathe- in poetrythrough the architectureof any absence-

but it’s the beingness that makes meflail-lurch-ahead,erecting tomorrow-upon whose yesterdays-I stand—

-226-



Swept Away

Listen: you plant a seed-desiring secretly-for its dearth, penury,(you can’t tender it)though it feeds on my thoughts rains -you breeze by-to take another aim,

but you’re a cluster of dead leaves-(in my dreams)-by then-greeted by the winds of repose-and swept away--

-227-



Loss

With the loss of avalon-I lost my love,my only friend and companion-the “backs” gnawedlike worms throughour shared dreams and reflections-I’ll tie up death though,in revenge-in mutiny-in a shout-to direct every mirror, lizard and taint-and draw Sodominto the river of disease-into where echoes of existence-are faintly wounds-of my witness—

-228-



You

Its so much easier to think-about you,to conjure you-your wings-absently present,my wondering root,your voice a rippling assurance-or silence, lest it misleads,and when you encourage me,into your weave-you’re like a woman in love ,unself-conscious-a miracle of giving-

I never know if it’s their echo:“We love him.”-or if it’s just you-

-229-



She, By Any Other Name

I don’t want to think about her-I love her,

don’t want this love -

to ever freeze itself over-in any space-or-time,I secretly pretend she has too many flaws anyways-this way,I don’t allow myself-to ever be disappointed in my love-see: my love is about keeping me in love-with love-forever—

in the small eyes of my body-

the great shores of my soul,

-230-



Captured

Love explained-Is loved rested-In seams-Into the fabric of-anything loose, apparent- unseen,it’s a crest of sighs -

of content-in everything-that’s otherly-than yourself,it’s a tremble-for something that-may go missing,

but the proof keeps drifting- back upon-its release- ensnared,

-231-



3-Days-to-Eden

S u nU leave the skies,when I’m never-gone-dead,for three exclusive days,I keep you insidemy safe,

blindfolded-runlike hell,over the waters,where,I teach myself,how to swim,over where-you come

bringing Sirius-like a gift,

-232-



over where-

a kiss hangs in the air,over the trees,where I can dance-like a snake-

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Worlds Without End

I wanna feel my baby-in-your-cradle,

pendant-in-the-womb.a-matrix-of-worlds-without-end-I wanna feel my peeshie-hands-and-lips-onyour-belly,wanna hear my baby-whisper: (this, that, all,one, Om, began…I wanna make-love to you-I mean, make love to you-I mean, hands on your-

belly-and make love-like we just began,(I mean, I love you-(I mean, its so pretty-

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will the sober-musingsturn the usual”“king of the world here reigning”or: grief and mourn-and then-more seeing-knot -

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The Crossing

(The crossing is-at 45 degrees,continuous-endless,spiral,of movements,I make in time-and-space,Which lead-into-you,“you are all dressed in red ”“Oh, that really hurts!!”and this horrendous fear-“it can’t be mine”

“I am endless!!”we walk upon the moon-it hovers early morning-straight above my head-“no one notices!!”

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your talk is riddles-far-see , the creation language is-my body explodes-you shriek-and jump in pieces-I complain endlessly to the ghost of the world-Which is me-And I want to smash him-around for this neglect-

but the neglect is (you)three doors down -vertical hours-you enter–but,I’m scathed,thru,

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a minor rash-(I wish you were here--but somethings,I can’t see-free,

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Approval of the Poor

My thoughts, build dreams,that surround buildings,which are built,(By morning,the night is in-the floor,that I’m not in-on every door-there’s a sign-that reads: the world,the tendency is-to keep that space-more and more,the rule is-to keep any door-clean:you must enter and exit on the same

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floor-to do thisthe least:you have to have been approved-

by the poor,they shall exist around and on every floor-to remind you that you onceexisted ,and-had,no more—

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Echo

You and IBeen so utterly aloneFor some all timeThat we worship love alone -As if an invention-Through which-Saved are even Gods-Above,You and I know:Ours-Alone,

You and I know:Ours is love-Abode,And soon this frost-Bites into moorsAnd Marshes,

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Soon one

Saunters onwardWith hands in-PocketSoon,Slumber Is sum mountainsOf pleasure,Soon, lone is caved-Loves’ roar-Echo-Heard,Measure-in-By-meaSure!

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Found

The finished alonenessLike a surrender comesThoughts like sparrowsFly in concentric wavesTense, but gentle with secretApproving-knowing the root of all thingsis tenacious and strongthough the leaves stretcha million posesresilient as many springsthe seeds shoot throughsame foundationsap from same creek and though the eyes of Iomay be upon mesearching with the softest lure

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enticeonly when the alonenesscomesI know I amFound

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Secret

I’m back in the 1990’s,and there are othershere too-fighting for the-future,the- always-battlesof good-and-evil,

But we have had the days-and are benevolent winners,

to begin-and we love)which makes ita-circle

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which-makes-the-losers,secretly-very-happy,too,Oh, secret losers .

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Two Pages

He page is always-6 by 9-7 is where (gods’)sit,8 is where I am in and out-9 is where I shivered-

like hell,my right eye has always beenneeding cain-my left eye is abled-the two universes can’t really-really meet,

but for one, who’s always flat, but for one who is always flat-

but for one who is always flat-and there’s not always love in “your” eyes, but I’m her heart -and there’s love-and a lot of depth to that--

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Whereroots

(This mood-obeys,tempers midway,into-abstracted,

bemused-(this mood,

painstakingly,disentangles-withdraws,-remembranceof

things“menacing dues,”(this mood,estranged from-seem.

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love

wher e

roots,

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Darklands

She comes when she comes-and the darklands,Will bow to their maker-(I am his name )And though Neda is – -may not be our angel-(She isn’t Mary)They can bow tothe martyred Hussein-reborning there,and though I send my Lucifer-as myself-Muhammad

( he shall write my words down)Go-run

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but adds his imperfections,

for there-they are back-after-back,

and though they don’t ever want women-made into perfection-

both Neda and Lucifer-are raised-

by Mary-who-ismade-conjured upon-as- perfection-

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Possibilities

A will totragedy-doesn’t exist ,though each leaf,dreams a different-tune,the garden is joined-to the attunement-of one string,

pitched by infinite living gods,who- -serve their time-and-spacesunder the possibility: “there is good”-every step you take -

in this world,must ultimately fit within:that one rule-(trust me

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Point-54-1/2

A different reality-co-existed until today-in that version,I don’t even recognize myself-though I’m born in that very same year,

I seemed different to myself-

Which why he living gods-from long into the future-had to come “here” to tie-a ribbon around their-stem-

and though its good to see oneself well-there,I’m still alarmed by the invariableness-that exists-here-forever isn’t met yet,I have to gaze at the bars-some can’t root out the colors-

of their olden whereabouts ,-

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So listen : if you nay any command of any god-in any space-and-time,the light of being-must leave your sprout,

until you’re left-a stone,until eternal is my-home,until upon-your cradle-sleeps a dead -star,

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Mary(Eve)

If you don’t bow to Mary-you shall meet our swords,she is your cup-and through her is our-

mo ’re-,,she carries my flesh-your cradle,she is Sirius-you are the following constellations-

she is who--creates and spins lovein-and-our of shores-she harbors,she glows-so the rest can find their way home-she is Mona Lisa-the smile you couldn’t quite

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make out - but now know-I painted her-so you always remember-your source,

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Can’t Meet Again…

I feel the pangs of love-though we haven’t really met,except in dreams-except her in forms only sap can seam,and we haven’t kissed yet,except in soaring recollections

of all that’s been,and there’s no moving with her now,the doors she comes through--fasten her away from us-in begrudging,screen,“you mustn’t be loved god!”“why!”“because love doesn’t approve-of her being its queen.”

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“Does love approve of being suspended in one

stream?”“No-love needs no bounds , king.”“Then let love pursue where love leads-

be it a vast flowering-or a shade in the trees.”

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Bedlam un-interruptedChildren-unbornUnmet, mates-Uninvited-So forth,(the Caesers born to the-Wolves (mothers-in-Disguise (were-Invited though-Invited-as-greed--armored-Over-flesh-disguised-as-Go,

(and I was there, for the ride,

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Titanics

(The new planets of-TitanIn marchalignment with,August,and corona

May,(tis next 200 years-said,to bring women:cosmic

poetic- bosoms,

-and all children-A peculiar:smilinghealth,which secretly said:to concert-

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perplexing neutrinos,Hubble spaces-of vertical-giddiness, even-giggles,

(planted on every-little-child’s-forehead,

(and no fears of- being bitten- by the Greater or-Lesser Bears,Vow!(Welcome back Titanicsand you been,so very, very-late,

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Sameness

Same-SameIt isn’t love -but the suits aren’t always-What’s within -Some women will be born as men-Some men as women,This grants their inside-wishes ,And not all hosts can adjust that quick, whatappears as a man,May be a newly born woman,(Some bowls are inverted )It’s a neglect to forbid-same-sex-love,

It’s a lie to announce them:union-dead,Only that I can’t be in love-With my own spring,Only that you-Are not always what you seem,

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Only that god is a man -And woman was created in clay-Out of him,Only that our love has no bounds-But it empowers-the womankind only-

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Can’t Meet Again…

I loved you -when you carefully revealed:you’re the one I’m married to- 50 years on or so-In Africa,

When, right before falling sleep-whispered of your plans for that one day-

And when you looked at me-As though we were already in love somewhere,

And I know I haven’t thrown anyarrows at your heart-

but gaze at the

places yours struck- Night before night,Day after day,In cluster of sighs,-with palms held up high-in tiny movementthat offer no escape---

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Someday

Someday there shall be one chant-in unison, in one voice;

“There is no ghost but the holy spirit,That there are no angels but Mary’s-And there shall be no doors ever opened-

but for those faithful, and loyal with our maker.”

From crickets to beasts and men-from the hum in the trees,to the scents of unliving,the truth must-surrender, to

theforever,in thinevoices,(trust me,

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Change

Change in the spirit-the ghost of the world ,change 2 the body-

after love’s-adored,change in the waves-change in the currents,change in the Sahara-where thine please-helps more--change for tomorrow-for your yesterday’s

become the sap-that keeps-us-so-assured,change for the virgin ,change for your crosses-which await us, upon every shore,change for eternity-for your bodies-

lest any’s more forlorn-

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“change; for thus--nothing makes us-any happier-

than the glory-of god--upon everydoor”--

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She Breezed Out…

Oh, how IMourn an

Empty heart,Its vacated byHer stepsHer fingertipsIts not exactlyA loss — I can quickly summon her voice in my ears,Its that she breezed out,And even the wind,Can’t replace her, now,“or may the loss-

be that though she’d try todisappoint in some newly way,

she’d never succeed at that”

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JesusChronicles

(Everything is-Exists-

(Anything is God-(There, here-within-(However small, large--shaped or invented-

Anew-1

(The creation of all-Is love-

Restored- Tru,(The love of God-

Is then-(That one is all-

2(And love is me and-

You-

(Trust him,

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I only know it’s so easier for you-

to get under my skin--than for me, to see-the-miracles-in you,

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Boud(was)

In every tinyMovement-We make,There is a concern-Hidden,Undisclosed,And made assuredOnly when enclosureHas wrappedItself-Into boud( was)And boudan (has been)

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Kevin

“Its theWriting on theWall that builds it-And though I can get upEach morning, to read the writings-I can’t avoid putting the bricks, Upthe wall, exactly as its read ”

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Africa, Africa

An object of love,Is any object you give-Credit to,About any good-

That happens,So, avalon shall be our Wife in AfricaKnowing, it’ll bring 200’s yearsOf fertility to the soil-And the-People of our lands,And knowing that whatBrings-This to you AfricaIs our love— Unmateched,

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Free Will

The able strings will hold my wombIn African lands,I’ve already told her-I shall be raised with little restraint-The cains strings will stand around the-milky way-As dad-They will whisper-What I’ve repeated to them-Myself-They all naturally bring what their scents carry

best-I shall naturally excel in that collected strength -And eve will be my partner-they all come from her apron-wall,and everyone sits on my body-

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my face is the map of the world-and you can call it all:the empires of the ray-

but I always call it-mine,“and why will I be born in Africa?”Because they wish it-And it turns into my will--because, its good-And Because-Goodwill-Plants,

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The Beautiful Immortals

I love you as much as one can-love any, who’s given the

best gifts 2 our lives-and I love you for all the pretty hours-that you spend--

but you breeze in, always,to breeze out,as though immortality is-your conscience’s flaw-as though-lest love-be reduced

by its desire, but as though,love be a flower,that wilts,and immortalmeans its waste--still: I can’t ever confirm your--eyes of abandon-are-eyes-of-neglect,

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Raised

The moment you love-You want to raise your object of-Love-Its only called-Worship,When that object is-Us--

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Dreams

The ocean,Where all rivers-Run through-Is the planes- of-dreams,You dream of your rivers -Dream of the ocean-And dream of-thee , how-Deep your dreams?Depends on how-Often you worship-How often you recall-The names-of-me,

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Without the three confirmation- Nothing goes through-And those who nay , the light will-Leave them--And comes back home-To (me)

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Kevin-2

“I had to read the-Writings-On the wall,But put up the-bricks-up-ahead,Meaning: the ink-Doesn’t write itself-And- it - all-

Needs-A pen —“

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Fates

No one can match your--Enthusiasm for yourself,If your body-Isn’t covered by your spirit,You will suffer – In a silence-That’s louder-Than any shout-That may hinder your fates,And my fate will suffer too, as a – Consequence of any suffering,anywhere within and around-our- names--(Trust me,

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Point-54-3/4

There are a lot of-Tomorrows left,And I carry the time-Fast or slow-I decide notalone-The haste-Has left-The world that-Had to be hurried-Through- in its making ,

Lest you be stranded-In existing- whereness-That doesn’t belong-

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Everything

Everything I look-At is--Constantly talking back-To me,Everyone wants the redeemer-To bring kindness-Back to him,“But my kindness shall not-Depart,From you,

Nor shall my covenant-Of-peace-be-removed”— (trust me,

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10

My heart , my mind-Sister’s maid-My sap-on able’s nails-If you’re not out of doors:Faithful,But for gods-ghosts celibate-If not obedient to your origin,Its my fault-I take the blame-I pay by the skin of my skin-by the bread of my

body-By the light of my soul-Until the changes are made-This world is no more-Than a (fable)To fools told,

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9

There is often a stairway-You climb-Her shadow sits at the end-She’s never really there,Because my heart is much like a cage-she’s got nothing to put in,she breezed in once-

but never been there since-meanwhile her perfect voice-

perfect fingertips-linger, and-I’ve got nothing else-To replace them with--

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Strain

I’ll read the poems-I’ve written about her there-Its a strain-To sit and wait,But there a million-Words left to say-And galleries-Filled with paintings of here-“what went-on-What’s-in-store-Everywhere-and-then.”-and I can’t say-I’m waiting-To go anywhere yet,”But: who’s-Go to go and make-the-vessel-Out-

-292-



Of-the-clay!in-the-eveningOf the potters-day,after the arrival of-The queen-Before sundown-

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Spiral

Everything spirals in now-The tribes wait in-The shades, in the dark-I’m caught in betweenness-Of the arrival,And therelessness-Of hers,its brevity,The courtship of a breeze-In the making of the forest-Of the love that-Holds thee-After-The sun’s-Left,When the sun’s sons-Become our daughters-

-294-



Shall

Our house-Is an inexpensive place-We’ll look for better spaces-But our house was built on top-Of mountains, exalted, and people-Flow to it, as you read this to me,There is nothing else, greater than us-

Now around Eden, after ten, into the nine,And eight’s struck here now, after all clocksTurned backward, after the oracles-Before youcame after,me,

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9She is Not I…

Its not just love,its brimmed with-something else-its a lot like reaching(and not-finding),

because thereabout-you’re what’s in-and not finding yourself-there,is too life,she is not I-the gift she bears for me-“is that she is not I”—

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Pamela-3

Thrice born, you-can carry all-your spirits-home honey,in Africa you-will all be there--was, was-not:A decree against your-name,-

I only bowed to-the pressures of your-souls-then-and they-call-you cain first-out-of-the-Edens-doors,next-we-determine-the-past-and-the-future-

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here--assured,and-they-call-it-the creation:“Pam’s- out-- first-And- then--Hooshang”--

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Documents

47455241 the Chronicles One