The Stone Garland

Golden tears smudged the sky storm clouds

Love fell into the rocks

Slabs of granite pillowed her fragile body

Lost eyes closed into the forever

The marriage garland was now stone

The hair on the nape of the neck

No longer blew in the wind

Golden tears smudged the sky storm clouds

She turned to stone

In the interval between having and not

In that moment the rain washed her naked shoulder

She could no longer feel the clean or cold

She was in the infinity of the no more

No love and no release

Golden tears smudged the sky storm clouds

To love with that intensity

To step through the door of the timeless universe
To suspend existence for love

Makes me weak in the knees

Survival diminishes me

Would that I could

Through the Rainbow

Two beings raising their voices to the heavens
Necks arched back opening the horns of sound
Clouds deferentially giving way to the music of the cranes
Music that exists on the edge of awareness
Cosmic melodies for the demands of the universe
Sounds for the initiated

The conductor raises his baton to the ocean
With a strong sweeping gesture
He commands the water into the rocks
The ocean's mist sparkles the music
The honking cranes take to the air
Their sound fills the gap between the waves

My skeleton reverberates with acoustics
This was once all white noise
My heart is now consumed with the music
I had no idea it was everywhere
What a joy to feed my veins with this drug
The cranes fly through the rainbow

What It's Not

The wall was a washed pastel rose color

Through the window I could see something I once knew

There in the midst of shadows and sunlight
Love was rotating into the atmosphere

I vicariously felt the effervesce

It was robust and heady

I inhaled the aroma of the transcendent

I breathed it into my nostrils like old anticipation

I was hungry without the need of satiety

Memories like these are joyous in the pause

But they are fleeting

And not sure of foot

They are adolescent dreams

Churning in the cauldron of myopia

It is frothy butter

Without the purity of clarification

It is the souffle without loft

It is the finger taken for the Moon

Aw

Everything is upside down
There is rain's residue on the side walk
I can see the reflection of the tree

Under the soggy leaves

In the pavement's mirror

I am haunted by some

Lack of definition

What is supposed to be there is not

As I step on the watery silhouette

The tree's image dissolves into the ripple

I can still see the gray

Gun metal sky

In the streets ambiance

Yet I seem to remember blossoms

I remember something was there

Something that always spills through

My fingers like rain water

Maybe it was a woman's heart

Maybe it was her breath on my neck

It's just that there is a hunger in my heart

A pain in my soul

Reverie

Before the dawn the moon lives

The flowers do not stretch for the sun

They hang asleep in their dreams

Their colors are subdued in the moon light
The first light surrounds the moon
Slowly painting it out of existence

I can hear the melody of the day

It's just over the horizon

Things are moving faster

The morning brings a quick chill to my flesh
I am becoming captured in the day

I can feel the quiescence giving way

Later in the day as events unfold

There are many sequences

There are many transactions

There are many delicate balances

It seems that just at the end of the day

I want to wrap myself in dawn's promise

Watching

Down the tube of existence the world turns around my soul

I am the destiny of the wind in the trees

The universe pleasures itself voyeuristically

Down the artery of my time

The birds vicariously dance on the wind

To telescope my ecstasy into the cosmos

The flock of birds seems chaotic in their cluster

A kaleidoscope focuses my heart from a distance vein

There in the mist is perfect harmony

I am instantly aware of wind and its vortexes

The birds are not chaos they are punctuation

In the perfection of the moment

Beethoven Knew

She was sitting on the hood of my car

She had gold lame shoes that bound her nude feet

The copper tan of her arch

Coupled with her pale rose toenail polish

Were awkwardly displayed on my bumper

Beethoven's kettle drum splashed my face with consciousness

I prohibited my eyes from drinking in anymore than her ankles

I turned to the exploding ocean

The tubular waves were spinning mist into the air

I snorted Beethoven's intransitive verb

I thought about walking on the beach with her
But I couldn't bear to unbind her feet

The white serpent was slithering up my Chakra's

The phallic energy was filling every eddy

With an ever intense rapidity

It is not sustainable

I'm right there at cosmic consciousness

Beethoven knew

Maple Syrup

The world is hemorrhaging in maple syrup
Things that had harmony and balances are all sticky now
The plate came with copious amounts of sweet sticky

Every hand railing and door knob only had slide
Banana and nut pancakes are the only traction provided
They stick to your tummy
My tongue removes the sticky icky from my fingers
As I walk away my feet stick to the floor

My socks permeate maple syrup

I just can't imagine life without maple syrup
Somebody says where is it all coming from

The retort maple trees

Paper money is no longer in vogue

Metal money is longer lasting and easy to separate

It is all so very odd and disconcerting
For some old curmudgeons and doom Sayers

Maple syrup on banana and nut pancakes isn't an option
Yet the sunset through maple syrup is to die for

Wendy

Wendy Darling fell in love with Dionysus of Neverland
Michael Jackson needed a mother for his children
Wendy lived without embrace in the sunset
The setting sun was all the warmth she would know
Peter Pan lived only in the morning
Wendy lived in a sunset of a Jungian archetype

The childless and motherless Wendy had a destiny
Her womanhood was magnified
By infinity and multiplied by forever
She blended her nurture and Eros
Unfortunately Eros's love arrows were adorned
With sweet dove and sour owl feathers

For those of us that could see
Wendy was both blessed and cursed
Doomed to haunt the ice flows of loneliness
Loving with adjuration none of us are entitled to
As for Pan he tragically always dies

Without knowing the depths of this woman's soul

I Want What the Flower Petals Have

A flower in blossom is more than an undulation in a dream

The froth in the marble doesn't suspend

As much as it cajoles

Every detail solicits my soul

Even if the pheromones are not for me

I remain famished

I can see the sun through the red poppy petals

I can feel the photosynthesis

Yes I know the divinity of the exchange

Some of the flower pods remain drooped

While others look like sperm swimming into existence

I remain famished

I live in the mix of this cloud with silver linings

My skin is etched with scar tissue

The lightning has done its duty

It was the price of admission for all of this
I want what the flower petals have

I remain famished