I

I have seen an
Aztec owl, kissed by the eternal
kaleidoscope of morning,
robed in Yellow air

Light escapes its hungry beak
and joins the Sun in harmony,
break of day rekindles the brickwork of archaic memory,

The Owl has lantern eyes which have witnessed innumerable births,

     -and the cultivating of this cherry-wreathed Valley, where we eat and
   write music for the soil's tender womb
                      
Opal condolensces for sleep
and sadness, the Owl gifts a necklace embroidered with apology, coiled 'round your neck, in times of gladness and tragedy

II
      
...and do not fear, for cradle, ring, and tomb
   all repeat in cosmic fashion
  
            (you will eventually return here, to the sea, you always have)
            
          Remember the attic where youth was stored away, to be replaced with exotic patterns, coral bulbs, cotton and laughter
        
     There, lay a glasswork child for your chest to keep safe. Your past. Your past of plums and skirted dancers, desert glow, Caribbean sleep.

(your mind rests its quiet curtains, but the classical radio station can still be heard)

III

An owl of sunset mosaics
     enters your dream, illuminating
the revisitation to a Mexico City
  that was flooded for Mountains
  
           ..soon to recede and quake, when Winter's spirit fades once more, there you will unearth
            Tenochtitlan.

I

****** fire
   Scattered with
salt of sacred youth
  
   Split & dislocation, your empire light
          (A memory/reproached by vines)

          Replaced by hills of small cosmic stones
formed like a scream in the sand

  Pagodas wrinkle beneath
The sunset's ardent temper
                   (nobody can escape the smoke)

Mothers give up their daughters

Heroes are marked by volcanic glaciers

Anthills are suffocated softly and without sound

Death has taken up other hobbies

Cheeks resemble the shade of a dream

I am greeted by your wolf of absence
it's hairs are thick and knotted

whimpering
(a shadow)
of what it once was

The toothroot maw of distant islands
tremble as a foreign vessel
curves around the bend of florid pine

Sails be blessed
              & branded with
                     symbols of balance
                    
Islands echoing polyrythm

    (Small stone houses, ritualistic, romanced by careful horns)

The old are tempted by decorative
horses crafted of leaves which dance and
enliven
                 the warming sea
                
Ladies dressed in Batik patterns
     carve quietly at shopsigns to capture their stale glow
    
I realize now the black underbelly of May

I see
Performances of it's ancient verse in all
who bear children

     All who practice with the weapons of abuse
          & the perfumes of mortal love

In thought
and acknowledgment

(Accompanied by tenderness & pull of lavender in a basket)

II

I have been taught to no longer fear alive

(alive) at the will of taxicabs

Of eyes which haunt the heart/

   (tears)
            
  The strangeness of
  mental carousels/
              
Rapid entanglement/
          
(death)
  
          Palaces conjured by the Sun/
          
Basement conversation/

Iron candy that worships your body/

/////

An ever present sound of black
        
           The black of love &

  nightfall in yearning

Where the Northern sky
dies with adoration,
swallowed by an
orchard's olive skin

       (A wine for exchanging poetry)

& like a static Summer unrehearsed with cathedral orchestrals

Or willow's wind flowing in through my bedroom

I will miss the black animal's fur,
of the silk you covered me with
in my sleep

(midnight shelter)

III

Lamenting with another woman
for another time
devoted yet fractured

A landscape scar
for Springs Bengal hunger

paused
on a door as wide as the mirrored
cavern where promises were forged &
betrayed,

what happened to the Tsunami which drowned your past?

IV

On the truth of time gone by
I wake with the burden of
every season
& you remain even still

You are the day's end

Woe is a horned creature
      Color/blue (soft)
      Youth of savage taste
        
Piano is envious for magic
(The noise is disquiet)
    
    Angel wise and
    a whisper

Mother cleaned up her
violent act on stage (a highwire)
    The temple forever stained with
     birth
    
          Garden of age/
          
       A river's foolish plea with the moon,
        
People wrapped in ivy dance holily
   With their April patterns in a truly
    Dionysian scene
    
         I am there (a poet)
             day belonging to death
as death is owed to
life

   I feel balanced in this state
   (on the edge of the river)
  
       we are joined by harmonies from the Valley,
         they can be heard from above
           flowing
           downward
           featherlike
           unafraid
          
           (a warmth/a womb)

II

   The sea is still alone
   (chasm of black)

Thinkers chase its waves &
Our eyelids disappear like marble
into empty flies
  released from a tropic fantasy
  
    The inevitable scream, humid &
     Covered in ash (volcanic)

III

Illness rejuvenates the dream/
questions remain questions

   An elephantine flowerbridal looms/

Smoke erases the memory stained in each ring of each pine,
          burdens relieved from the Antlers of
ancient death
         (smoke, tide, branches crackle in a flame, peace is envisioned here, I love you)
         Narrow ceilings attempt to re
         create
The sky/      
Paint flaking off pathetically (the palace)
darling ember washed away with simple time

    (Where has our capability for survival gone?)
    
         mapmakers and children watch their hair fall into a promising wishwell
    ...kept secret and sacred
    
         those who see the bottom of the well are branded with eternal laughter!

IV

? Healers hand
       (You've arrive
       d
       at the entra
       nce you once saw asleep)
      
                 The conquest for simplicity is finally realized as no conquest at all
                     You're in love again,
                    
(Yellow love)
!

A divided composition of incense ash


someone is cutting the grass outside


I can hear the hum, as the hum can
experience its own vibrations, as the
vibrations are experienced by the Earth


grass is severed like a mother's sleep


I'll be getting my hair cut today


there are flowers emerging from the trees


new incense stick burns now


my second destructive composition


the first an informal mandala


tossed away in another room

In the fountain revelry of a
simple moment

My face is ignited with sparklers
there are crowds shouting joyously

the Omikoshi emerges from my hidden theatre of shut eyes

I still haven't seen you carve out a home within the hilltop

I have never heard your voice cry into the deserted afternoon

where everyone has abandoned their post for sour milk,

(it was just as Shiva commanded)

in a purist's wisdom that we shall sew together

A dramatic sepulchre of landscapes &

Balanced shrines which release

pinkish children to the Spring

Fierce is god impenitrable
glad glad glad there is a
Fire up the street called Heaven
There is

A woman wearing only one shoe who is taking
an exhaustive drag of her smoke in the
early morning where birds are
still heard in
                                    !!!!!!cities

A hymnal a
heralded nest of savory berries A quartzstone is trapped in time a myth is made more ridiculous when proven real

Continents wither where the flies glue their

regal canvases on downtrodden earth (missing Pangea)

Or smiles everlasting smiles meanwhile
(Blonde tongues wearing fashioned wigs)
in constant state of beguilement

The Neanderthalic stones will be unforgiving to the REVEREND who has collapsed through his song the song of lead pipedream fantasies of sexless dogma YEAH monkhood yeah Ghat burning holes in twilit schools of thought or no thought at all


I can

hear the collective Faerie outcry that silence has presented itself HEAvier to their wicked careless bodies ok I am innocent of love I love your innocent love I am careless(of their wicked careless bodies)
ResemblingA swans actual duty to die
a swan lies a swan lay
like an even more beautiful swan
on even more beautiful swanny grass
To die by swanlightSUN and MOON white like the swan where we soon listen closely to the swansong a celestialLOVELY
rhythm of gilded forest (((((orchestrals
The swan leaves us in happiness of bright groggy light
                         O (of which in chaos of day I am again innocent)


     The Reverend's desperate gaspings into a  micro -phone for a macro - cosmic prayer idol o idol where is your capability for worship idol o where is my chinstrap o idol where is ****** youth or the romanticized eternal SUMMERS I sing
     O bible O cloudland O where is your telephone operator is they deceased by their own fragrant holines? The church
     Watches the Reverend neverend his television routine of clamoring death odes
     Watches his senility come like an implorical shadow outline watches a demon lick its dreamless lips beyond the periphery of godless dreams
     Watches
     Reverend lose his sight in anInstant
     HeWAILSheWAILSandWAILS can you hear it Thomas De Quincey can you hear the sandbeaches ringing more clearly than the ChurchBells or the ****** Pagoda for torture /

his soul is to sleep in the (mossy)mountain the fire of the (forever)street called HEAVEN the mountain column supporting the sky(swan)gate of heavenHeaven!welcome

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