As your presence was near and truer dearer, my heart pouring the torrential of the ever loving giving,
so I was just allowing this wherefore, by this Ocean can refuse no River; Sheila Chandra's Shore surely, enduring endearingly but essentially perfectly so, so in this poem I had called 'IDK if you read my poems but' and true to the spirit there; Eye God gifting the clear dearest of omissions, I could simply touch in this touching all interactive endeavors with spirits true truer to their beings to with and of the highest intentions, though oft so tough for the steering on these slopes we know, so and steer from than into; I bear trying, for I am zero of why but here there, we are all of what creation be, spoke with and much for our poverty's yes so possessive indeed but again true to spirit and words fairly clear I try to back into or is it as should it better understood said get back into hahaha; when and if something moves and I don't care, no fear more here if it's some temporal spiritual possession; you, me, we were all there our projections made better servants than excuses; hard sometimes finding true love helpful with dear near warm blood bearing beings; no matter what 'dey's sayin' thinking believing and or even feeling sometimes we just know there's just some overly too, close to home thing about our deceptions; so is how, why Solomon could simply just ask and or say demon do what I ask, and do what I say, and much the 'Temple of God' was built such a way; and oh the kicker they were happily at it doing God's love; not mans ***** excuses; and sure I understand 'House of God' a structure still and again, the blasphemous need of the place of Jerusalem yet stolen more charades of crusades hmmm holy wars; well I like to think you know I speak directly with whom I see hear clearly, not what I hear and see not by any book and any mouth speaking those horrors of deception even reading 'Holy Books'; then what I found beyond the stigma of X's for maybe x,y and z reasons, to hard to see through or past or to hard to believe why, they are there truly, or it is perhaps more straighter to say what they mean really; 'nuff said 'bout what I understand truly, don't make much less work, but more truly again, then too all too compelling; no matter falling's, failings; I've been cooked and stewed well enough; how many bodies have paid overly the price for any single one's innocence's worth, whom indeed did, does deserve love care, protection; as all seven billion now still, are we all here again and still now not rightly;
what should would could be it, to love one another truly,
Would be; all judgement on; all judgmentalness off;

Okay,
End of poem beforehand read 'His Trees';
then for your presence being too emoting presences felt with all of creation, too also all presences essences emoting; and truer to my feeling believing seeing and what my heart is about, in effort bringing into creation creative forces already more so, less the issue; and more about X'-ing out or off our X' destructive of one another and as our failings of stewardship here, those X'-factors factoring off; off of hating and on more with X' of loving, without the all we are so still confusing yet, within knowing better still;
For as this too was said much took it into their own deluding; but here, hear again truly;
'I did not come to make peace; but with sword to divide'
But and oh well yes, for once upon a time it was prelude this way;
'for those that have Ears to Hear'
But watch woolla,
see who you are,
how far we have come and what your
Ears Hear Clearly Now;
but what
'He'
Said simply truly was not
'come with a sword to divide you
from me or any other one another;
but, with a 'S-Word' to truly help
steer clear and clear the 'air'
about what we do that is of love
and that is of hate,
that is all simple, you hear well enough I know so much;
but more than that what you will for, work with your willingness this way;
the things only we have made seemingly into impossibilities
can be more easily had in love joy and fun with abundance certainly;
albeit with Emergence more Heaven Earthen Grounded Bonded Breathing Tantra Feng Shui,
kinda maybe, but kinder sweeter more beautifully lovingly all will do be see within without all about Truly;  
but see Love knows not bound in any way or dimension; all there is I say;

So it is willing giving springing sharing seeking witness witnessing need;
can not will not omit a bit any part of thy very self, simply indeed;
so only our willingness or willingness-less, much more than we will or any other deceptive short coming pill;
you see understand like all there is I could go on and never stop as ever never will;
though for the very dear near of your being here today;
with all creations loving help seeking need;
just two words in much the potent place;
I was able to feel find about;
and between within exactly as is
'His Trees' befell 'Her's Is'
And now so better spelled out casting
more clear and less doubt there is;
"His Her's Is Trees";
And so Holier the breeze now, lighter freer yet;
more so potent indeed and in like kind;
~indeed of need~

~~She Breathes!!~~

~And certainly;
Yay for the Trees!!!!~

~~His Her's Indeed~~
~~~Breathes!!!~~~
In Out
With
His
H
E
R
'
S
!
.
.
.

Sa Sa!!!

~~BREATHE~~

Fall, oh rain! why mock our pain?
suffocate and squirm with your laments
engulf this tortured earth and soothe its tantrums
we are nothing but obstacles in between
while you drift through turbulent times
we stomp and watch, anticipating your despair.

Cry for us again; we are parched
your tears, to sate; this anxious wait
seems eternal before the darkness,
the grey - saturating all light
paints your gloom; that's so like you,
still hiding the sun away.

Spying on the unaware, your amorphous eyes
glare and pinch a wail, unwelcome gale
like burst fire you ****** water; no more
at your mercy we scour your shadows
your breathless hue ignites the senses
blooming hope in defeated hearts

..and death in your wrathful art.

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 28, 2014)


It takes 2 to tango
1 to lead and 1 to twirl
1 to catch the falling

U the crazy and U the sane—
who teaches whom?

It takes 2 to tango, 2 to waltz
getting nowhere

It takes at least 2
to do the Boot Scootin’ Boogie
they are frayed around the edges
but done 4
the energy discharged
by those many arms and legs

Jazz hands!

2 heads R better
4 eyes R better
4 feet R better
to read with than one

more emoting, more plummeting,
more butter in the cookie

weak link in the telephone game
ineffectual spy
gumshoe detective
gaaaaaps

Jazz hands!

bygones are never bitter

~inspired by Lar Lubovitch,
gifted to Glenn Currier  
who made my eyes water-dance this
morning ~
<>

raise the arms in preparation
for an articulated genteel waving
to keyboard,
an elegant slow descent,
fingers extending, splaying,
but in fine coordinated curvature

for they are 24 carat gold filled fingertips,
word & dance-art~infused
i king and expelling sounds of dancing words,
all over my body

some body part of me,
grasps that the cylinder of ink,
becomes a baton,
single instrument director,
an attaché,
an additive~lubricant,
for all my orifices,
firing rocket-in-the-air bomb bursts
while body in its entirety
motions,
shuckin’ and jivin’
in the prayer~poem first position,
a rock n’ roll motion,
back and forth,
to fro,
holy mesmerized

words run down my arms,
letters drop encased in salt drop capsules,
from the intuition in my eyes,
we see them forming words,
pooling,
without volition,
upon,

all my surfaces, but they
a mere conveyance,
bringing these expulsive explosive verbs
in an ordered fashion,
to your eyes,

intuitively,
asking you
to dance with me,
begging you
to envision me,
hearing the piano maintaining rhythm,
while a violin crys out in a overly long held notes,
concertinas  bellowing,
all together quavering,
oscillating, emoting,

and you!
you are reading me perfectly

so we dance in unity
cheek to cheek,
to the song of
our poem,
our words, our tongues,
our entire entities,
rogue kissing

Deflated euphoria
Enveloped in the evening glow
The drone of the tooth
And nail battle to be
whirring down to silence
Beholding the glory
Of your hazels
Artificial gaiety
Awakens
Vicarious thrills
Emoting through you.

wrote a note
to a row-boating goat
wearing a down filled coat
emoting about the broken tote
while doting on the potato
floating around the moat –