we need only rocks and butternut squash
daylight mellowtime
cold wind change snap brisk
  fog mouth.

   The cities ******* cling to the shoreline
lake of ontario.
      share tea , share kiss
peace yum day break activity
meditation on stillness
stones stacked seamless .
    
   Before a powerful night , of music sung with joy in note,
friend snuggles -
      smoke lips -       crying - mercy
vision ascension.
                Body pulsating in your hand.

   Pancake quinoa breakfast , maple syrup hotchocolate .

Later to lentil soup with french bread and brie cheese , grapes  
Reading park time medicine cards
      Shaman training , initiating 46 yr old lady to her first joint under the swell of almost full moon gleam.
i dance the whirling dervish round the baseball pitch , extend my legs in ballet-tai-chi whirl. Find my footing in
the lightning flash sky
   nestle and snuggle more with friends.

To midnight snack of orange , ginger zest cookies with sunshine and peace printed on , peppermint tea and
a slight fondling shower.

     New music runabout
talkin bout american deeds ,our own self , our progression and human dissociation from animal instinct
    
Be love.

POWER in HEARTBEATS.

Psalms 103:20: “Bless the LORD, ye his angels, that excel in strength, that do his commandments, hearkening unto the voice of his word.”

I must be in heaven
because I’m surrounded by Angels
Towering, statuesque women
legs, smooth like the ocean we swim in
Angels

Glowing examples with spectacular wings
pieced together by glittering things
Jewels, gilded spectacles of art
to frame the emaciated bones tied with strings
Such delicate, glittering things

How glorious!
How Victorious!
These creatures appear to be
They’ve won the prize
for all seeing eyes
to gaze at their bodies for free

I am torn to shreds
between admiration and jealousy
For these, angels are perfection half dead
New age fossils preserved like precious artifacts
They’ve been sent down from heaven
as an example of what God must want Supremecy to look like

I must be the devil
I’m shorter than these angels
with at least fifty percent more body fat
Descending to the sound of church bells
the Angels spread an important message
Appear flawless

Rule the World with Pink, says the lingerie
Leave the forks and books where they belong
Slogans like Unwrap Me appearing on thongs so,
Purity within myself seems wrong



If one wants to be an Angel
an object of affection
a receiver of attention
one must become an angel
Grow a few inches, drop forty pounds
Get used to your growling stomach’s sound
It’s only your morals you’re throwing away
Hire people to mend any tooth decay
Oh your hair starts to fall out?
Wigs are back in style
As a Victorias Secret Angel
You’ll constantly smile

If your heart begins to fail
and vital organs deteriorate
Your mental illusions will bring you a date
with Jesus
He’s right on your shoulder, bejeweling your wings
As an Angel, you deserve only beautiful things.

Speckling drops, of bathwater- lovely evening rain.
Patter melodically against
my open window frame.
The  water touches me not,
for my roof with gutters and onings.
But the dewy breeze saturates my room
like my face to an ocean breeze.
Mother Waters, send her daughters
to my window this spring night singing.
Distant puddle patterning ploops,
diameters mass expanses on the suburban streets.
The trees, the smile as they absorb the
moisture their brittle bones need.
Oh how I pitied the trees,
when the cold stripped and broke their branches
my heart grew sorrowful & weak.
The deserve to be enveloped, by this
unplanned storm.
All in the world, would agree when I say
that we are blessed
with this warm April rain

Can   you   explain  theacid  that   runsthroughmyveins

                      wheneverI'mwithyou...


or,
             ­        I    simply       missyou


         When    I     crave     the      sensation  

         of
                   yourskinonmyskin

                                               ­                 vibrationstomytoes

        thetasteofyourmouth
­
                                                     electricitydownbelow

  

                                                         your
                                                         face
                                                     between
                                 my                                             legs


                                                         oh
                                                         his
                                                        t
   ­                                                        o
                                                          n
   ­                                                     g
          ­                                                 e
                                                          is
  ­                                                  gold

     ­ 

      diamonds                             in our                                eyes

                                                handinhand

   ­                                                tohold.


         You

                              cradle  


                                                         close&cherished;

                            my
  

                                                           heartinwhich

                  
                                ­   you stole.

all you are is a bouquet of weeds, finding your
way through the cuts haphazardly placed on
my frail legs, and sitting in my veins rotting like
roadkill, turning the flowers in my stomach into
a swamp of misery and dehydration. as intrusive
as you are, i can't seem to get rid of you. nobody
told me that drugs is not only just opiates and
stimulates, that it could possibly be as much of a  
psychological need as love does to me. i couldn't
imagine being squeezed around my neck like a
snake, hand or noose deadlocking me but i suffocate
in my mistakes. so it makes sense that's why the
garden in my chest has been long forgotten about:
i've forgotten to take care of myself. i need people
to help me with making sure that i'm important and
vital to them. all i ever am is a bouquet of weeds, and
i feel like i grow so attached to a person that i end up
being that snake, noose, or hand constricting them
until they need to pry themselves loose. i'm sorry.

- kra