slot of the abyss The rate of decline a sigh attempt
O sigh attempt
These weapons are your dancing
The arms dance - General Arms stroke width
The buzz in this bang buzz the water
O light in the window
Which means that singing
And then destroy all the Strikers Skin on the wings to sing on the sidelines of each feed legs waging war against the story The skin on wings of song to the coast of all the legs feed the story of the war against story against
history against trend to the Wick the light of the wick
Margin and war, and the skin the skin of the feet in the building for our bodies in the light our body with respect to the extension of emergency so that we only feel the lightning is moving we do not flash the moment in the narrowest of winter as the call to unite
...and possible 28, 29, 30. Was all productive this morning. (When I plan to go the gym, is this my brain's way of thwarting me? This compulsion to actually write poems for the first time in a while...) Let's see what happens tomorrow, eh?
The Marriage of Figaro—Overture
So bounding in the slippage
& the abyss trap door, tripping
makes the rise so so
makes the fall so so
O sigh, O try
this dance yr arms
my arms
swing wide
O joy
& bang this buzz into
O light in the window
is what it means to sing
then crash from each lash
lashing onto wings onto singing each fringe forages our legs waging war against the floors
against the floors
stepping forward
toward this light wick
bounding again, rising, rising
the fringe, the war, the floors lashing the feet the light to our bodies in such urgent sprawl that we feel only the moving feel only the lightning in the darkest winter like starnight inviting unites
Clarinet Concerto—I. Allegro
O sway in and drip
this lilting lilting
so too repeating and
felt into this quick tip
of ink trills that tendrils whispers
sew happiness in the wind & field
this fielding hill so sweep
the day sweep sky sweep
away like happy having
warm
O sing! O love!
how the morning lifts sun
if luck
or storm the world the room with water
flooding out each stinking
weather clement
time in fever—
swells
down into a low note
so slow
for pause
to remember
soft
like fingers in ears
on cheeks
the smear
of passing
and the lift of arms the lift of eyes the upwards momen of each single dripping bit of life that corners into each river swell
I have no energy for Poem 27. How is that in the beginning it was exciting and new and the poems were terrible but they happened and now neither is true.
Try this ride along the highway in turn stasis ate the bank and flow tings the pave I meant to wide sail eat cherries sea, each wary see these breezy yesses. Say yes. Seance. Save us.
The wheels will wile us into heaven. Your will wilts wildly in two havens.
eye care re: your artist knees my art) iamb inert with outlets (a knee ware eye go hugo, mightier; any twats sever stone bio lonely meteor dyeing my doll wing) high for- nicate (for your army benefit, mice wheat) i want narwhals (for butte in fully Ozarks my whirled, might rue) antics sewer watt advert a new ooh nasa weighs men tan dot heather ascent willow ways seeing as you
heresy deep set secrete no bodies’ knots (heiress the rue tough the rue tanned thrum atop the bud ant dusk eye tusk eye sophistry gall lead lie; wit chug rows hire than the sole can hope or mind can hide) and thistles the one dearth at ski peony these tar saps art
Poem called everybody loves a narcissist (from a line by Stephen Rodeffer)
Oh look at me! Aren't I glorious for you to behold. My hair as sweet as bouganvilla. Eyes like stars in the crease of night. Skin as soft as rose petals, blushing just the same.
from a line by niedecker// in the dandelion heat/ in the wood panelling/ under the silver rafters/ between the blades of grass/ on the smoking pavement// turn, turn a longing for / turn longing in/ longing into/ meaning prepositions
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Lis: Her Lis: a circular enclosure with earthen wall. Lis: Law. Lisa: god is an oath, a vow
Rob: to steal from Rob: juice from a fruit obe: a village robe: a long garment, to clothe, a room for apparel ert: to incite, urge, encourage son: a male child son: a slow cuban dance son: to conceive sun: the brightest of the heavenly bodies sun: to warm sun: gives life robertson: son of robert, bright and famous robert: also robin, to steal from the rich, to give to the poor
Her god is a vow bright, she shes, she clothes urgency, she conceives our village, her vow is our village, her bright warm earth her law. Poor, she gives us her heavenly body.
I am a broke writer. Help send this animated film of my poems, Regular People, to festivals. Even a dollar helps. There are prizes if you can give more. Go here: http://regularpeoplefilm.blogspot.com/p/help.html
A vibrant lie hangs bright between two days. nights red in petaled death. If I could choose. If I could burn a message on your flesh. We might know each other. Instead I straddle a calcified bone that belongs to who I don't remember.
blur as trees pine / needles in the skin of fog / each puncture an opening as tender as a lung / breathe the daylight in & breathe / each painful breath for fear of crows / falling into an icy / dying without you there / to know him
A life burns through a fire of enlightenment: the red ocher on canvas designing a desert. Its truth, the oil we spread on each of our bodies, each of our objects, coloring the world over.
Beauty doesn't answer. Beauty is the motes of dust we often miss unless the light shines through the window at just the right angle, highlighting each floating speck like tufts of dandelion in summer.
But we hardly know them. Like the lines in our own hands. how we forget and are so often surprised that they are there.
