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Jan 2018 · 228
Untitled
CMD Jan 2018
You sit in a line, I see you
Each with a different hair style,
unkempt, yet perfectly thought out

You weep raw wounded tears
For me, for yourself, for your beloveds
Like a piqued adult, I sense your worry
The worry that you are not crying well-enough,
puffy-enough, make-up-smeared-enough

But it is raw, enough
It is from a newly formed depth,
a mark that will leave a mark, which
will leave a mark, maybe

And you will sing from it
You will dance from it
You will use it as both sword
and shield for the rest of your
life, maybe

But it is raw and it stings
and it wails, oh god does it
wail and scratch and burn

But I see you,
In a line, with your
hair unkempt,
holding each other close
Jan 2017 · 768
Untitled
CMD Jan 2017
It is morning. I glance up at the sky
I nod to her, acknowledging that she
knows the weather better than I

Our duels are unforgiving
She is graceful in her delivery
And I am left shoveling up the remains

Her coldness no match for my warmth,
my skilled hand. I create a path, boots
Weighted against the latticed snow

I remind her that though she has
a power to wield, I have my own

Perseverance.
Dec 2016 · 466
30 mph
CMD Dec 2016
Driving to you means
Deep, dark, dirt backroads
That smell like a late night
Bonfire party

The smell clinging to my hair

A lone party goer wearing his mask, losing his way

Driving to you means
Still, white, holy churches built
Before we claimed freedom

Houses standing perfectly

With eyes ablaze

Driving to you means
Letting the music quiet

And arriving

Home.
Nov 2016 · 1.0k
you in the sunlight
CMD Nov 2016
//how raw the wound aches //

                                                      //  i see you in the sunlight //

// wrapped in our used sheet //
Nov 2016 · 347
to sit
CMD Nov 2016
what swallowing silence
a warm cup holds

in a space, a time and place
beyond reaching, beyond
satisfaction

handle your place gently

invite your containment

to sit
Oct 2016 · 353
place
CMD Oct 2016
How still you sat//your face toward the sun//your belly exposed

Feline intuition//dipping into the cool water// but step you will not

Monks feed your fine belly//your lustrous coat

Water sings//with the breath of the trees//sensing bliss
Sep 2016 · 1.8k
Movement
CMD Sep 2016
The grey fox barks
every evening, echoing
the perimeter of its
territory.

The red fox cozies up
next to the brook house
making a friend with the
inhabitant inside.

The black bear sits
its frumpy *** on the
porch of a new homestead.

The trees bend towards the
Earth. Reminding each creature
of its transient position.
Jun 2016 · 576
expanse
CMD Jun 2016
i forgive the moon
for she does not know
the vastness of the ocean
Mar 2016 · 849
Untitled
CMD Mar 2016
a new thought is swimming
inside my cranium fishbowl

I see the colors swirling like
little koi in a man made pond

I am not allowed to touch

Should I slam my head against the
table?

Should I let the liquid spread?

or

should I quietly balance

locating my center of gravity

they say there is no use
crying over spilled...
Dec 2015 · 1.5k
12(21)
CMD Dec 2015
dark i sit
with hands
     carving a bowl
                          holding\chest
digging dark soil
       mouth filling with thick spit
lips seeping

                              moist air of solstice

darkness chatters like compounding bone\shifts
    beastlings drooling  

tasting it. tensing root.

     sipping in(to) darkness

exhaling  bounty
Nov 2015 · 354
...
CMD Nov 2015
...
how time slips through these hands...moving with the internal flow...how brutal the friction can be...how warm my hands become....
Oct 2015 · 651
Untitled
CMD Oct 2015
you hoard a tiny moon
in your mouth

i put my mouth around
yours

and howl
Aug 2015 · 360
slow steep
CMD Aug 2015
as this comes together

        i promise to not pour out the tea leaves
                                                          ­           soaking in your cup

                 but i will read the story they tell
Aug 2015 · 302
Untitled
CMD Aug 2015
a gentler world is possible

open your hands
Aug 2015 · 415
15 minutes
CMD Aug 2015
ocean of needs, steady yourself
a listening rock, a sway of attention
what direction do you flow

set the timer for 15 minutes
curl into a cave, a space for one

step into the noise, steady yourself
it is only the beginning of infinite
accountability

steady yourself, the feeling
will pass

set the timer
Jun 2015 · 445
Storm
CMD Jun 2015
Tuesday:

Wolfchild Brings the Rain

A bucket full of storm clouds

with swimming lightning poles

Wire hair pointing which way to go

Panting between the thunderclaps

Howling at the covered moon
qq
Jun 2015 · 1.1k
early moss
CMD Jun 2015
black moss, early morning
smoke egressing an open window
leaving behind a forest of desert trees

phantasma collecting in the shadows
of the eastern suns first hours

like a cowboy returning home late

it is everywhere, it is everywhere

it is okay to believe in magic
Jun 2015 · 520
feb 5th, 1914
CMD Jun 2015
mushrooms to the finger dance


throw **** in the street and change locks....happy 1öö you old ****

                                           im just a vagabond searching for a sweetheart
at sears
typed feb 5th, 2014
May 2015 · 420
ton.
CMD May 2015
instead of working,
let's drink coffee early,
dress up to show how
grand we are, and then
dance the Charleston
down Lexington
May 2015 · 284
96.6
CMD May 2015
Skin radiating window light,
waking dreamscape

How different my internal
heat records

Reading to me the way
of my body
May 2015 · 715
free bird
CMD May 2015
hey hawk
with the chicken legs

you are poultry
in motion, chickadee

caw me
i am free
May 2015 · 460
shadow brigade
CMD May 2015
the shadow puppets line up
behind my eyes

the badger smoothly strolls
on two legs

the opossum moves
claws first

the raven hops
corner to corner

a place of childish whimsy
of jagged, jointed movement

      a stage of handless puppeteers

not so much a dream but
a backlit brain

setting up the stage
quickly

a dry run
                         curtains up

break a leg
May 2015 · 323
eat.
CMD May 2015
naked
in the heat and sweat
we champion the morning
May 2015 · 649
phantom sunrise
CMD May 2015
Shifting to sight, the clouds,
a mountain passage road.

It runs alongside the sweet smell
of New York City coffee and early
morning mishaps.

What to make of the noticed world
after Chroma conducts his sunrise?

Girls in smeared make-up sitting
at the McDonalds. Construction Workers'
cigarettes slowly building the
mountain skyline.

Roots in the urban gravel wake the din
slowly. The clouds shuffle along, the
road quiet for another day.
Apr 2015 · 670
elder wood
CMD Apr 2015
dream elder: "you pack well, yankee. simple. I understand why you picked this spot. It's because time and movement are right here."

-- he points to where the sun is hitting the wood floor next to the bed --
Apr 2015 · 416
itch.
CMD Apr 2015
Visualize the way you want to see the world.

Send your quantum particles out and watch what happens.

You are fundamentally a witch.
Apr 2015 · 301
April.
CMD Apr 2015
I sit quietly in the dark
Listening to the early morning
settle itself in your chest.

And the bird song
that joins in with your
breathing.
Apr 2015 · 460
rabbit, rabbit.
CMD Apr 2015
bring attention back to the body:

1, 2...breath

          3,4...distant din

                  5,6...5,6...

7,8...bring attention back to the body, now

                           9, 10...
Mar 2015 · 516
words.
CMD Mar 2015
be a creature of passionate

wor(l)ds.

acutely taste the

wildness.
Mar 2015 · 450
All
CMD Mar 2015
All
Dream Alligator:
Increased vulnerability
hidden aggression or force
basic needs of the survival
ancient wisdom
Mar 2015 · 463
grace
CMD Mar 2015
The machinery
of grace is simple.

We are made of
newspaper and smoke.
Mar 2015 · 10.4k
fox
CMD Mar 2015
fox
slick body between
shoulders and hips

tiny legs
glued into place

sweeping
resting tail
so smooth in
its positioning

pointed nose
soft grain

days of work

the fox enters
the wooded
cabin.
Mar 2015 · 709
water cocoon
CMD Mar 2015
the chrysalis opens
and I regress

the water cocoon envelopes my body
and two hands reach through to
cleanse the roughage

sitting on a padded table in a
warm but sterile room
a woman in a rubber apron
hoses me down gently

partially naked
I accept her request
to wash my hair

she scrubs me down
but not raw, just pressure

just salt, just salt

she dances herbs
down my hallways

passages open

eucalyptus lingers
sometimes a little

too long

I accept her request
to wrap me up

to swaddle my adult
body

because

    why not?
Mar 2015 · 1.7k
lass.
CMD Mar 2015
following
     the
line down
    your body,

i put
    your sweetness in my mouth.

          it is a
great
              responsibility, young ladies,

to have ownership
over
your
bodies.

      Alive with sovereignty.
Mar 2015 · 330
day 29.
CMD Mar 2015
Drifting focus binds
chaotic awareness.

Mindful wandering
welcomes empty beings.

Early morning drives
through darkness.

Counting breaths
as snow falls.
Mar 2015 · 651
hue.
CMD Mar 2015
I am human.
My core is gold.
I am malleable.
I am precious.
Feb 2015 · 812
Untitled
CMD Feb 2015
tip the body boat
walk the shaky deck
understand nothing
about the forces of water
deep, dark water
that is light in the morning
and rocking at night

let the mermaid sing
to her creatures
let the men pull the sails
steer the angles
bail out the senses

she writhes you
into oblivion
into awakening

sweet water.
Feb 2015 · 716
body.
CMD Feb 2015
Just add water/I feel unbridled creativity and make urban-forest soup in the shower/ My hair a carrier of woodpapercardboard particles/ On for the ride/ Just add steam/ Open the hair follicles and allow the woodland compounds to mixmashstirandpour the soup into my hands/ A vessel directed at olfactory desire/ Just add a body
Feb 2015 · 527
Untitled
CMD Feb 2015
w(om)an
the
   world
sound

wo(man)
  wo-rried
    wo-eful
      wo-r-ship
     ­   wo-unded

w(oman)
                   o-man
o-men

       womyn

(om)
Feb 2015 · 1.3k
delivery.
CMD Feb 2015
Dove in my chest
Settle please
Your wing tips are anxious
My stomach is full

Dove in my chest
The swallowed sunlight
Should shoo away the tired
Come alive.
Come alive.
Come alive.

Dove in my chest
Drag the worry from
My hip basin
Up my insides
Out my insides
Fly away
Fly away

Turn me inside, flightside

Out.
Feb 2015 · 557
9.
CMD Feb 2015
9.
Tall grass not yet touched by
dew observe.
Longing to reach the unforbidden.
To glide between atmospheres without
stopping to breathe.
As if that breath will steal what
cannot be stolen.

Hoping their presence will not
break the silence they find absolute.

Pickpocket the sky they will like a field
mouse with a crumb of
salted *******.

They shall not judge
what cannot be touched.
Just praise and absorb.

For what cannot be touched by
lavender hands can be felt by a rose soul.
Feb 2015 · 491
8.
CMD Feb 2015
8.
I sit.
I sit and lick my
Lips in anticipation for
The sweet fruit of guilt.
Saliva works its way between
My teeth, filling the space of my lips
With a word, words, tinged with forced
Glory (or so I hope).
I sit and place my tongue into the whole.hole.
Holy in its placement. Hidden away.
The saliva is sinking into my divine space.
The mole of my molar dreaming, digging
for cement thoughts to
Fill the space and trap the word, words.
I sit.
I sit and lick my teeth
In anticipation
To tell.
Feb 2015 · 618
mount-a(nd)-in
CMD Feb 2015
If my body was a mountain, how would you begin your exploration?
Would it start with your hands running fingertips over the different surfaces – smooth, soft, rounded – understanding the terrain…Or a deep inhale - one that would leave a subtle smoky taste in your mouth. Would my skin provide a map for you, or would you blindly travel me in the dark? Would you sit awhile, close your eyes, listen to the sound…or take my earthly warmth firmly… If my body was a mountain, would you want to explore?
Feb 2015 · 356
tip
CMD Feb 2015
tip
tip the weight to the side
the world is bound to grow out
earthly vines of tipsy noise move
fluidly to the floor

what relief!
Feb 2015 · 628
4.
CMD Feb 2015
4.
the disappearance of
lightning-bugs-scares
the little dark
place
behind my rib-
cage.

it twangs with
a need of a flutter

and a beat.beating.trying
flying- sensation of wind-under
a beetles wingss. a crea
ture. of peculiarloveliness that
twinges into theee word bee.t.ling

the disappearance of lightning.
bugss. I’m afraid to say. Is bec-
ause… I i I swallowed
them
into
and swallowed them
into the dark of
my chest.
Feb 2015 · 1.1k
Victor
CMD Feb 2015
Sinking peach pit of a stomach.
Sour to sweet it moves through
desire like an untamed wild
child raised by wolves inside
a silk house.

Slowly ripping fabric,
as teeth clench.
Microfibers of strength
unseen by the body,
treated like an issue.
Everything an issue.

Everything contained
into roles,
like stale bread
given to the birds...
Feb 2015 · 502
3.
CMD Feb 2015
3.
Time’s long fingers have worshiped
Round the gentle spot

Where you sit in my mind…so

Still.

Grounded vibrancy of ethereal compassion.

Striating. Colors…of sweet earth, you are.

Aromatic deliciousness thickens as you sit at my thought

Table.

Honey softening my world.
Feeding me
…with time’s long fingers.
Feb 2015 · 1.3k
Untitled
CMD Feb 2015
There is peace to be found
In the sun burning the back
Of me.

It is a small price to pay for rural
Relief. Slap that orange price tag
On my face, I will pay any price.

I sit beautifully boiling because
Life surrounds, envelops.
The world is working here.

Clean hands dig out my imagined thoughts.
Passion exists in the silence of the tiny insects,
In the exhausted red leaves.

The sun is a rite of passage to a
Simpler world. The cool grass acts
As the only acknowledgement of
Beauty that is, beauty to be.

My ***** feet are a free pass to comfort.
The jailman has released the tightly
bound shackles.

Slowly swallowing the moment into my chest and
Breathing it out to a wheeze, exhaling completely
The world that can be.

The world my body can create.
Feb 2015 · 1.3k
calling
CMD Feb 2015
Fowl calls pulsating through a wanting body
A mind prepped with 10-for-10 meditation tapes
A goose flying in the dead of winter

What is ease…?
Feb 2015 · 698
Burrough MeDeep
CMD Feb 2015
I was born fast and moving in the back of a bus 8 ½ miles outside of New Orleans. I was not noticed until my ***** cries wafted to the front of the bus, heard by a 50-year-old transvestite named Is-he-dora trying to homestead in Kentucky. She put me her manicured under arm and carried me off.  You see, mom pulled up her ******* quick, smoothed out her cardigan, and popped a Quaalude before the driver could realize she climbed out of the emergency back exit.  

My first drink was bourbon through a ******. I teethed raw leather, the heel of an old boot, and a mannequin who was named Dolly. She only wore red satin and peacock feathers. The gals only bathed her in sesame oil with almonds floating in the jar. She smelled of mom. My school was on the laps of the people in the back of racetrack stables. I take my learning fast paced with a side of jockey.

I took to the streets half paved by the beats. Cassidy may have had the road, but I had the words. I was thrown out of every Mormon congregation south of the Mason-Dixon. I made it to New York in a bathtub in the base of a pick up truck for the purposes of shoplifting for fun and profit. I vogued my way through Harlem, and at night I slept with Dolly’s sister in the bedding section of bloomies.

Here I am. Right in front of you. Can you see me? Can you smell me? Can you feel me?
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