In dank imprisoned mind,
cellared,
thrown against a wall
by guttering candle,
huge monstrous thing
clawing at the stone.

On palmy beach, timorous,
hiding in sand, stored
Under feet in noonday heat.

Drinking wine with
the moon,
the three of us
flaggoned,
aliened underneath arches,
faintly there, drinking
out time away,
girding our *****.

Merged with She,
sheet crumpled, replete
with lust.

In every space, nook, cranny,
in qiuet contemplation,
thought myself alone,

But you have never left me,
capricious, morphing,
paranoic delightful
shadow of mine.

Walking,
talking words into being

Never noticed the stone
up ahead.

Stubby toes, let
rock remind,

Look around, watch
where you go.

Stood on one leg
clutching clubbed foot.

Old stone on the road,
thank you.

Needle a *****
in atmosphere and
allow spirit escape.

Flood shared space
with something like love.

Burst the bubble and
go, earthlings,
dandelion seed on
cosmic winds,
go fertilize the planets.

This the freedom of generation

Mud skipping fish
blowing lung

Tentative reach beyond
self and the
oceanic goodness
of being

A carpenter found driftwood
From a wreck upon the sea
He looked at it with interest
What kind would it be?

He found that it was oaken
Mighty, strong and hale
But it had been broken
By tempest and by gale

He was building houses
From such sturdy oak
So he took the driftwood
Upon it for to work

He carved with sharpened chisels
He began to sand
He had red, raw cuts of pain
And splinters in his hands

He worked with it patiently
Imposed on it his will
It will be something wondrous
He's working on it still

He loves that piece of driftwood
He salvaged from the sea
For the Carpenter is Jesus

And that piece of wood is ME


SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/23/2016