Is this life the tune of his human hands shake
as they play out the rhythms on his shoulders
in a refrain that comes to nothing more
than the drumming of grand architecture
to the straight on stare of strangers and friends
which melt our story with what now becomes
a man that is buried from within
by the sweet tremble of his hands excused
in order to show his capacity
to feel beyond the present.

For continuum weighs sympathy.

There is no deviation in the baring of these days
that calm this man to the descent of what I so desire.

i.
Heading south people change and it seems, by degrees
imperceptible over decades. In this place
the small 'i' looks into flight theory
for a bird out of season. Life as a rule
consists of evidence, the gentle breeze
or the gale force, it leans on faith
towards chance with the family,
the friends & the lovers you take
a shine to. A belief that obscene amounts
of change alarms, if the people
you love will only change with you.
But the saddest day is the one
where you find you've changed too
much and us not nearly enough.

ii.
Wing stretches while this log fire burns, all through
a sleepless stretch of evening.
The small 'i' re-working words
is hemp loose, as ideas fall
with passions onto paper.
At 4 a.m. body exhausted, walking
outside holding another.
Plumes tickle and rise in the head,
drift from the hand and the mouth.
Theres a mounting chipper of birds all
about, they rustle and stir in the bush
behind. Drawn closer, no doubt
by the sweet stench that floats
thick, in Kanimblas subzero air.

iii.
Air spirals as it is the vertigo and the wind
that gets me, holds me reticent
just one step away from the edge.
From the top of this plateau,
its a sheer drop into silence and
the cavernous mystery beneath.
The valley is fluted in layers of mist,
a scene stealer for the tourist and
the small 'i' alone on the stone
ledge of so vast an expanse.
Catching wits and breath,
I recall a friend having said that
a mountaineer once
saw god on K2s summit.

iv.
Weightless flight theres experience in that possibility,
in that solitary view of the infinite.
Precipitation clears from the valley
as birds and bird song wing
through the sunfiltered clouds.
And just beyond the falls
two iridescent rainbows form
the perfect tricolour arcs.
The sky is winter blue and enormous.
The small 'i' subdued, watches day
pass and the sun shine on the valley.
Consider how easy the choice
to take one step out and glide
weightless on air currents really is.

v.
Tail feathers and vegetation grow lush all the way
down through the pathway.
The legs wind the slim web of road
until it flattens out into brush country.
Horses graze close to the Tea Rooms
where theres hot food and a fire.
This valley less up close
less imposing than the view
from the top plateau suggests.
On the way back up echoes
of parrots and lyre.
The weather ominous as feathers
float with the snowfall when birds
lift from the trees and are gone.


vi.
Skyways in the old adobe home fire
warms flesh while the heart
beats slow and the small 'i' wonders
'where exactly in this anatomy
do wings fit?' In the cerebellum,
which itself feels nothing
synapses spark and push
memorys sharp edges
into tissue of the heart
or the head with no reply.
It makes no difference, what
the small 'i' decides - as just
because they can, birds will
stretch out their wings and fly.

--

what can
unsteady a person
bring her falling
into the deepest sky?
she swims
inside dreaming
lets go
of possibility
makes dizzy the first
bone-dry second
then blue surrounds…

*

her eyes let go
of every surface
resemble
every weather
she is everywhere

We will change the music for you. It will look like a field of buttercups, and sound like dinnertime.

a six-inch patch of life redemption

Si lo que has encontrado
Fue formado por materia pura
Nunca se pudrirá
Y tu puedes volver un día
Si fue solo un momento de luz
Como la explosión de una estrella
No encontraras nada cuando regreses
Pero habrás visto una explosión de luz.
Y esto solo ya habrá valido la pena
PC

quiver beneath
thirty four fingers
in-others entering
through-an excuse
for constant-
delusion

HS

there may be dedications
determined by the disciplinary music
of a looming storm
but what kind of day means
another melodious shift
ive been training my left arm to glimmer
and am already accustomed
to the heat of the forge
yet as for flames i head in all directions
of yellow turning
orange turning
away my gaze
and the watery foundations

but love,
if you were a globe,
i could place a finger
match equator to longitude
then gather the topography
into a fistful of embers

you might have brought the other motion with you
maybe you did draw three broad Xs across our earth

i might have touched fingertip to fingertip

climbed the hill 

and surprised the city

but now
this junction still exists

Language is the place of the mind
as Space is the place of the body.

Hair dripping, as it were, south, while the ice-blue
inside of your mouth hisses letters through the rain.

To speak is to desire. So the gods judge.

The heart, an organ of fire. my fruit.
The soul, nail-bed as my gift.

mothers, seeds, gods

what do you

 wish for?

the heart leaps the heart opens the heart
closes the heart grieves

it becomes it sinks
into your palm it believes

acacia blossoms this time three
foot snow this mild
spring winter

when I dream of men it is always you
no longer

does it mean I'll wake
up making poppies in a crush of white
its pure

us loving in our barely there
adult twin bodies blue and dark

delight in our delight
buds blazing
but when I dream of women it is always I

delighting to delight

Are the flowers youve brought to the surface to wake me?
Are they heavenly flowers?
Are they an excess of petals, an oblivious turn to abundance, the ground of the flower itself?

Is the aspect of sweetness compressed into a sea-water breath, as one would bring air to the surface?

Would I feel a flower so similar to aberrations of color descending to roses?

As I would so love to be restored from my likeness to what would parallel instead.

Deepness is a metaphor belonging to those who beckon all they seek into the vicinity of the imagination. A flower from the theatre. A passionate rural howl. Controversy with style. Ignorance of sleep as if being awake had somehow more virtue. In reality, there are those who see the deep and the shallow as part of the same view. Landscape is perspective. Insight has your dimensions.

In facing
the face faces us
we see light and
in light a sea
of particulars a face
we see bodies forth
open and opaque
it calls us
ourselves

we forego
in the realm of
sensuous there is not
a first experience of
ego its image apogee

every face his face
only I see he
defys his pleasure
he alarms he divides
he can neither partake
nor participate

My response
resound with redundancy
In facing the face
pain in your pain
forego ego Be
a - cross threshold
Echo Be Echo

What I will give you
since you asked
lilies wild
midst seas of grass
shining lights all your days
This is what
I give,
what I ask of you
is nothing
I am blessed
by the smallest...
of lifes attentions.

Ring
Hugged gravity of the gibbous
this perfect circle a chipped white plate
its center pale reached the compass leg
enscribing silvery thought red to violet
surrounding bow. How is the world
broken turning in stillness not our moon?

Rising
So large...the tide roiling the sea-wound
and broil like a dream afraid our moon
near. A pale basket being hauled
into the sky beginning a separation
the amazed heart swelling a redness
failing in the west our breath caught up.

Full
What I carry with me from the North
fallen into a glittering field
of sea the waters many small instincts
the timid openings of memory.
Whatever I was, whoever you
are, dolor of luna origins
all around us this stripping off this
pallor as we step out of our names...

adamant and beautiful
with worlds sleeping in our palm
playing in the dark changing into a game
of the day disclosing circle
i fall asleep and wake up
in a land where above
citrus fruit haze rises up the spiral
acceptance of inhaling and exhaling
by the vast water with its mystic bounce
and I'm filling up
with every moment
i grasp more and more space
and life in it
throwing the dice i belong
i have love for the same reason
that you are in every raindrop
washing away and rousing silence
in our eyes where several suns are holding
one another with no arms...there...and here
playing in the dark turning into a gala of the light
with you...(always)...with your single breath
as its center.

The space between
the inhale and the
exhale is not so much

a pause as it is a link

a
thread
between

what has been
and
what will be

and that is where
you reside in me

i coalesce
with ease
from breath
to breathing

its sheen
fixes krsna
to speech: a
man can

elevate himself
by his
own mind,
breath to

breathe and
knowing.
benign then
motive

bloods run
thudding
thick & thin
in the waters

deliverance
loves
and
creation

what we shall say
is that,
under sense,
they

cut through the
storms
slipping
clean, away

to the divine
numbering
one to nine
allowing you

to believe
with uniqueness
the way
I remain

This is the Master of heaven, who is like unto Venus and the
moon, and this is the house of Love, which is without bound and
end.

Rumi

sculpture
moon
abyss

sun
bird
star

strangers in a hidden world

I noticed two blue dragonflies hovering, end
to end, above a pond, as if twisting
the iridescence deep into each others
body, abdomens withering, spiraling
into the wing-beaten air. And your voice
comes back to me through the trees, this word
for what we couldn't help but do
to each other -- a thin sigh, unwinding.

Love means you breathe in two countries

what if you were able
to know what I have felt
when powered by the way
we are made
I have felt all of my body
its excess and its strength
thrive up to the creation of my middle
spine steepling to bring me closer
to the speed of gravity
to share that
with you
would be a divine relation

Oxygen feeds a flame

I invite you to breathe this way

Your heart is flying, he said
his weight against her chest
It does that, she said
drawing him in

moving over forest gold
i wish you were an owl
gliding slowly into the night
to see you pass the big silver moon
and watch as your wings
swim the current
of our interlaced soul

do you prefer the deep rise of natural evening
to ride the currents of the earth
as if inertia  - the steam of its own propelling?
do you too possess that boundless energy?
energy of what? of affinity! of pestilence!
...it is unavoidable...
i am both

so...tell me
tell me so...
what do you hear when the sun comes descending
when the rain stops...and starts...and stops again?
I know you hear afar this
silence
I know your feet dont understand our
stillness

You dont know me but
we trapeze anyway
tomorrow more
unpredictability & freedom
tomorrow or the next day
or the day after that
all i know is
Today
is an acrobat

Yo sueño que regreso
un día cualquiera
to the pleasure of letting
the earth slip through my fingers
Yo vivo en permanente exilio
when I dream
I can only speak in tongues of desire
when I dream
of stretched bodies as my island
awaiting me
Yo puedo perderme en las prominencias
de tu cuerpo
in the sugar cane flavor of your tongue
in the dark cinnamon color of your gaze
Yo puedo perderme rozando tus riberas
like a wave
piérdase dentro de usted
Yo sólo sueño que regreso
I can only speak in the tongues of desire
en vuelo
from your body

what is tucked between entangled hair
and the moment somewhat marvelous
is the truth that there is nothing
between us except for us

the light can surely see us
as there is a hum
beating...a glow
but all one hears
is the sea
upon nearby rockiness
and voices
which chorus
through the floating nights
the sky...white
dashing with gleam
the moon melting...
through the horizon
where my vibrant mica star
glints your pearls
blissfully sweet

"...babae!"

“qué pasa?”
“einu sinni enn sólin skín, afturkoma...”
universo de universos,
la lumière luit dans the darkness
en medio del silencio profundo:
“khob, no ké resid bé bâzâr kohné shavad delâzâr” -
en la eternitad…
la luz, no pueden sofocarla,
se para la marea, y no saber adónde vamos…
«róba, pródajeteli ?» «né,dósta»;
et Parcae dixerunt saeculo: mahlip...
iau, atti, attunu, mamma, mala bašû -
esperad todavía

Under the Bo-tree
the Budd-ha-to-be
sought something
beyond opposites,
beyond thought
Talking about it,
even here, in the
holy tabernacle of verse,
is missing it.
Instead of turning away.
In the giving up,
between the giving up
and the engagé
his page will be
our distance
going blank
with all that
you seek.

Wings too divine
in air so cold its edges mark
winters end and springs first pulse.
In the poised crystal I fly silhouettes
that fold closed, then open,
now in prayer, now in possibility.

this...heart...just...knows

?...tis dis oan abut mi...?

run << from >> t e <<

c h a n * g o

run >> towards << n w >>

Consciousness is More Vast than Language
Greater than Your Personality
Love is a Key
To Your Power
And
Your Joy

We are pain and what cures pain, both.
We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.
I want to hold you close like a lute,
so that we can cry out with loving.
Would you rather throw stones at a mirror?
I am your mirror and here are the stones.

Rumi

this = love

I watched you
grow full of suspicions
making guesses weigh more
get too large
A forest of tall-grown illusions
each whispering their own stories.

Lost in the trees
Daphne, too, is not what he seems.
The birds that nest on his branches
never suspect that he
bark-covered
refused the love of a paradise
the love of a god.

You said
I sing you know
Oh, I know you sing
like a bird, I bet
but not for me
not to me
Then you walked away
toward the trees,
sprouting leaves.

ample make this bed
make this bed with awe

A LONG FALL INTO
INTELLIGENCE

in love with

WHITE SEA CLIFF EDGES
PATH THROUGH CYPRESS...WHERE WE'RE HEADED

eyes open

The crushed lava and
coral bed of your
meaning falls between
parted fingers, opening
dusk concealed between
stars. Nine heavens of
Tagaloa circle
above the children of
earth and spirit:
 the heart, a woman
the earth, a man

Are you
sad?
Yes, but not
like that
she said
and
swam
away.

Enchantment
is a song
the body must remember how to sing.

persistent perennial pleasure in place amongst the peripheral paranormal perfection of predicted preferred predicaments perceived in penetrated personal panoramic peacefulness of parallel passages procrastinating phonetic participation

In my body of skin of moss of clover
I touch fingers to fingers
lips to lips
the exposed tip of the heart

Seed work Sun work Earth work
If pansies are for thoughts
I pick them early in the morning so they last

your lips are missing the story

Recite a large print love aria
into my lower back

Seek out my amiable arch
appearing in the dropped-beauty of the rooftop

Like a dragon it radiates flame

I applaud you as a founder passing
between

and tell me then what to make
of the candle flickering, drilled into the glacier
which will then expire
while he respires...still although
and assures that what is is
and what is not is (anyhow, what the hell)

. . . al hezzaz catches al hamama
. . . al khiate satisfies al taleb
. . . an naasse surprises al mokabeul
. . . az zoddame meets al zeunbar

I cradle your world
therein I could never touch

morning loves removed lovers
and we are
brutally
removed

tepori, gli uni agli altri,
vedette, sempre visitanti,
quiete non resta mai,
mano che non avvolge,
lacera, accartoccia,
torce la pelle, un livido,
e ne fa stemma, stigma,
un accadere muto, trafelato,
un rapido interrompere.
vuoi che si assordi, che rimanga?

It will be a glorious day
when you melt into the earth

Mujer de mi vida, ven a las agues. Ayúdame a purificarme con el exorcismo pagano. Mira mi casa y sus lumbres, no te quedes en la superficialidad, no escribas sobre tu carne los nombres de peces.

Según las circunstancias he traficado con las hojas que se acercan y con voces.

Mi casa es la cabeza, decir esto me reconforta.

X – Why such nothing.
Y – Let it be between us.
X – Why this less than that.
Y – There is only this us at now.
X – Why such serial why.
Y – I remain your hybrid half of this.
Y – I am also not yet an other.
Y – Nor even this as such yet and now.
X – This then at that.
Y – Only then as such.

eight inches
solar plexus

They...they tell me
Heaven is in these lips
But
Once I...I...well I kissed the bottom of the sole
Of the foot of a boy
Who ran into the ocean and
Drowned deep
Down below...

incline

interval. wonder.
statement as indicator. never. always.
always. never. abstract designs.
small paths. the equation of the tangent mind.
wander. circle. between/
idea/configuration.
ourselves trusted.


´´´´

design in blue

logic/probability
random/calculated

transcendental numbers
irrational numbers

complex numbers
real & imaginary

two parallel universes meet


````

precarious

the balance of leaf

the balance of star

unknown pages

maps hidden in clouds

geometrical patterns perceived in trees

silence & uncertainty manifesting

infinity times two


´´´´


voyaging
precarious

our
voices
waves

speculate
light

suns
moons

contour
air

our
bodies
in
orchards

wind
&
iris


````

poet
&
artist

floating
worlds

philosophic
worlds

fleeting

inclined
indirect

Each of our bodies
represents an approach
to movement within
the world’s circumference

my muscles soften underneath the
chinese-water-torture-drip
of seconds passing into seconds
passing into years
every time i come near

Heads bowed,
her knees crumb-ling,
him sinking.
She holds a photo,
him squinting.
the Sun
the son.

Sun at the wheel,
the blank motion is still
further by far than far away.
But on the move, on its way.

Sometimes I think that
Mother Nature could have breast fed

deep Sea dive
listening for the
mysterious Rhythms
we make
slipping in my fingers
somersault ricochet
closed eyes
Open Me

atoms listen with their purple cells
and...dont ask
the unsure-what it means-

Vibrate

Yo
Xu
Izaz
Ya-Ish
Ish-We-Ye-E
Ko
A
Naa
Ae
O
Ish-Tai-Ish
Ku
Zu-O-Ko-A-Sha-Naa

the miracle of changed consciousness
comes from placing the attention
above the difficulties of the day

with deep Gratitude
comes true humility
a key to the Fountain of Youth

Gratitude lights the way to enthusiasm.
enthusiasm clears the path to Love
Love is the key to freedom

BE
fountains of youth,
standing waves
whhirrrling, swirling to sur-face
shifting slightly...
just enough to
make wakes of Gratitude

dizziness optional

GOOD
NESS


love...why dont you just sweep me off my feet
anyways...please saleei
keep it comin'