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 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Arlene Corwin
Everything That Comes To The Surface

Everything that makes its way onto the surface
May be good,
Its matter surplus, or not wanted -
Dead fish notwithstanding.

A surgeon’s stitch forgot, ignored,
(as was my dated fate of late);
The spooned off  fat on top of soup,
Secret thoughts self hidden
Coming up and out unbidden,
Sifting happiness from pain.

Again, again,
Examples endless:
Plants that sprout to charm the bees;
Corks that float,
Pus gravitating towards an ‘out’,
Shoots whose object’s being eaten…
Endless signature secretions
For the use of us
And every creature,
Surface purpose their first feature.

Everything That Comes To The Surface 3.12.2020 Nature Of & In Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Lili
moonlight
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Lili
and in that moment
she realized she was no longer
trapped in the moonlight.
as the suns forgiving rays
graced her skin for the first time in years
she felt like things
might just be okay again.
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
MawaLin
Longing
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
MawaLin
And when you left
I overwatered all your flowers
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Gina
Am I dead?

Dancing in the moonlight, I sang a soothing song. You laughed.

I live.

Clouds come in on puffy fluffs. You float away.

Until the morning tide.

Waters suffocate me. Your hand on my mouth, pressing down so my parents can't hear. Lights dance inside my eyes as I press my legs together.

It's  too late. You impress me. Your seed has penetrated my womb and the child is born.

There's blood on my white pillow case. Shards of brick in my hair. A brick, broken in half on the floor.

My head is pounding, aching, throbbing.

My heart. Oh, my heart! It is dying.
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Christina
seasons
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Christina
i met you
as the leaves fell
and the sky turned grey

the world grew cold
as my heart turned warm

i missed you
as the leaves grew back
and the sky turned blue

the world grew warm
as my heart turned cold
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
teni
two.
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
teni
can i miss you?
can i kiss you?
                                                             strike a match.
i cant miss you
i cant kiss you
                                                                     let it burn.
but i do
i really want to
                                                                 throw it out.
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Ken Pepiton
Weave we've woven a web...
What I said, what I said, what I said
we been sayin all a long

Oh the futurists mythed the inter-resting-time

This man fears population explosions, he is speaking in 1991,

I'd built my great 100 by 75 miles ten stories building resting place where ten billion story tellers could hide and watch whaat's
comin' down.
By then, decades before, in the desert twixt Vegas and L.A.
I asked this guy who actually wanted in my pants,
I sat on the window silly V double you, did he know,
I asked, no, I told him, after I had been starring at the stars for some time, this time that'ime, when I think about it,
I told that guy the whole world was waiting,
suffering,
await'n' the frontal cortex maturation of the sons 'oGod.
I said "and I'm one." Don't touch.

My private calfornia became my private arizona and neo and river chose idaho, ( no, that idaho, that was a movie-story)... not part of the rite

that was the legend of the clan, when we had electrix. That ride set an I'll-go-rythm of if/then/else switches to HIGH honor if-ic.
If.
If you can keep your head... the rest, true rest, is history.

we know a voice who swore he was there when "Been there, done that"
became an
eternal cliche of the gods.

We are participating in the future. We are thinking.

---
that hapt the same night as the discovery of the perfect-ish
four sided pyramid of charcoal brickets burning one
at at at a time
touch another to the glowing pile on the sand...
(audio)
=====
why are ficts so far from the facts in the matters that matter

re-lig-em leg-it-am-it-all, damitalkenslowdown

so re-lig me to my ide-idea, beware

We seen this coming do you? This is thirty years ago we know, this we know this we

we are in sanity, as insanity is the only way to packitin
sane sorts of things that all must touch in order
to re
main sane. You know, you know. That makes lying im-possible or null-possil-be
per se.
Word.Righton. Trooph truckah! ToA allaway Found

a calico cat of the old school sawdust variety.
if you,
if you see her, please de-if her re-onance, it's chipped.
You can keep her, if I can say such things here and not be thought an ownery old cuss,
clammering through empty lobster tails to see what the attraction may have been,

Back. Then we are not
off track or trail, etched acid canyon of silicon paved with godelsufferingold, by golly, I'd be live if I could see my way clear to walk such streets at
the speed of light
no, gravity and no, too slow,
thought.
ought... that's a thought
not... that's a thought
ought... that's a differ'nt thought, takes time...
that's a thought you could spend thinking it. You get nowhere.
now and then we find clusters of ideas in time, as if they buble from some spring in the headwaters of the mind we matter in

Der Lesenmann, bitte, kanst do lesen? O h, dear reader, take my hand, my phantom hand, the one I never lost, tell me

did you enjoy our journey, so far...

Weave a ways, weave a ways to go. If this and that cross
again
we may hear what that preach meant to say, thaat day
o'visitation, way back when.

olden time. grand mals time to meditate sign-ate de-sign-ate,

Dada do we know when we know, when we are two and the past is, too.
Papa do you know the big bang is the answer everyone found, in the olden days when you were ten?
Oh I read about that backthen, I was twelve. Weekly Reader kept my gang informed, or Me, and I told all my friends, my listeners who did not read but needed to pass the current events test.
Now, we all a passin' those ****** one time at atime

Upon my word, begin...
This sprang from a 1991 discussion about the world wide web, in which Terrence McKenna  Ruper Sheldrake began to imagine the world we live in post Y2K and  9-11 and 420 and Prop 64, where are you
 Mar 2020 JaxSpade
Nikki I
Clouds are forming layers  
The sky is turning gray
Wind is dancing happily
The trees begin to sway

Creatures crawl inside
Fires stoked up to heat
Hatches battened down
Prayers said for the wheat

The ditches might flood
Roofing will be torn apart
But Idaho storms are lovely
Like a beautiful work of art.
2010
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