Dust-Dog

The Years of Passing

The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence
Can you Hear me Now, dancing this silent Dance, in between the shadows of Things Gone and things Yet to Come?

This Silent Dance that we both know.

in our Cellular Metabolism.  Our DNA. Our Chronic Gelatinous Lovely Cytoplasm.    The Dance that Breathes. Air. Sweet Soul. Softness. Light.

Completion.

Seasons Change their clothes like tired Strippers in a Dance Club of Laughing Gods.

And the leaves fall to the eloquent jazz of Wind & Fire.

Mothers say goodbye to children who say goodbye to mothers and fly with all their colors into the Deep.

The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence.  It’s a prayer we keep; a lesson, a promise… to one day be Born Again.

Symbols of Magnificence

Hello, I am Boy.
Manhood in a Rubber Suit.
A long silent Scream

from my Liver
enters my Heart

and says, have you Eaten Love
for Breakfast; have you drunk
from the Formless Cup of Color?

And I remembered that
the Driver of this Car,
This Vehicle I love,
must be massaged
nourished
cared-for

Before the Exhausting
Typhoon of the
Early-Morning
Sun

Jingle Bells
We go as Plaid Men;
Riding in Twisted Cargo
Smoking Cigars on a Green Fern Embargo.
We rise for the Sun & Decay in the Dawn
our Faces are Strawberries; our Fingers are Gone

We go as Plaid Men, we rise up as Nuns
we cave in as Children, Lovers, Cinnamon Buns
There is nothing to Stop us, We’re never in Heat;
We shave our sweet faces and swallow Burnt Meat
Our sisters before us have Salvaged the Road,
The Innocent meet Strangers, the Silver buys Gold.
The Dawn of Intention, heals the midnight Decay;
We go as Plaid Men
as Housewives we stay.

Jingle Bells
Sing our Moments’ Repent
The Serpent sinks in Leather
The Kitchen Water is Spent
The Dollar is Sideways,
A coin in the Lock
The Only Key we could Turn
was the Face of the Clock

We go as Plaid Men
Twisted in Corks
we sing our songs sideways
and eat Knives & Forks
The song that we Knew
is the one we Forgot
as the Ancient of Mariners
Drowns at the bottom of the Pot

Can I Look In Your Eyes

?

hey, can i look in your eyes
and see who’s inside
hey, can swim in your lake
and dissolve – in the changin’ tides

hey can you see into me
you just might see through
hey can you look in my eyes
and see a picture of you ?

hey can you look into me
tell me what will you find
hey can you look into me
see some peace of mind

hey can you look into me
is there a treasure inside
hey can you see into me
go on a magic carpet ride

hey can i look in your eyes
what would i see
hey can i look in your eyes
will i find a piece of me

hey can i look in your eyes
will you look into mine
will you see the moon on the rise
will you see the sunshine

hey will you look in my eyes
let me look into yours
hey can i look in your eyes
and reach the other shore

can i look in your eyes
will you see the moon on the rise
will you see the sunshine

Can i look in your eyes
one more time
one more time

(from a song I composed 2 nights ago)

The Temple of the Blue Sky

I believe in The Sky.

There are several Other Crowds that do too.

I do not belong to them, because their activities are suspicious, and because they wear odd garments, and because they have closed doors in their eyes.

 

One of them says the sky is purple, and they have all these purple books and purple robes and go to purple church and eventually Purple Heaven. They drag their children to Purple Church on Wednesday evening, because that’s when the Purple god created the Purple Sky.

thE maiN coursE

something in me smells the way i feel
something in me knows the things i don’t
everything in me jumps and spits toothpaste
on the broken mirror of life
small things in me reach out small hands
for larger longings
and medium-size wantings
and tiny cravings

turtles crawl like broken lepers
through my vacant nostrils
singing songs in hindi,
songs containing life,
sweetness,
longing,
butter,
chai

and dessert.

when is the main course arriving?