If age is a state of mind,
you made an old baud of me
before my time
You'll get no complaints
on that front
The one last thing I require is your presence
Are you asking me to believe,
what I can't see?
Or just to complete the work on the Bridge?

Amble On Gently

A star in my coffee...
It's immaculate Con-inception
The nature and science had a babe
and it's name is memory drip percolator
Human hybridization is no myth
It's me, it's you.
It's organic, it's mechanic
Oh, yeah!
For a braver new world
Cyberterrorism is practiced daily in the US,
not by misguided, youth troops
It's banks, advertising, and marketing
It those of us that like to pretend
Things certain things would never happen
Humanity's dreams are sold daily
Do you have stock in companies that support such things?
Do you remember being offered a pill to see your first IMAX film?
Dark money can't save you.
Did what they could, and sold the rest...

Swelling squalls of erectile tissue
encountering memories of you

wickering through me like a swish of ink making it's way across paper

Sad, mooning morning
Lost beasts and time
Disgust for machine lust overwhelming
It's not that I don't love you
That you don't love me enough
To sinfully and wantonly **** me
After all it's my birthday
Cause I'm old and you've lost interest
in being the man I loved
That's why our children tricked you
into writing and sending your confession

Stand up and take a bow
we learned your lessons well
who to trust, how to trust, and when
Turned us kids into your spies,
your lies, your alibis
to get us to create the software to do it
So you could **** your mystic **** genie
please know our kindness as hatred
All access passes to dumb *******
This memeallscene is a gallery crawl,
a gallow's walk of perps,
who should have known better

Just a thanks for clogging
the artists' ether with kiddy ****
much love for Kate Torn
we used your magick
to put us back together
Your address is on the ticket,
the reddress that you bought her.
Tap lightly, tap lively not,
the tuoche of Jack Frost is upon you.

All the best and much kindness.
Perfection is a trick of the mind.

This poem will change and tighten
the ties that bind us together
From the women and men of Bandahache.
for the women who sign away the right
to tell their stories
I hear you Anita Hill
But we've been stalked and stifled long enough
Yes, that's what prayer can do

Weathervanes with harmonically
tuned brains, took up the call to Step Lively.  

Each one ecking, drop by drop,
To feed you silliness, to lighten your soul.

Wakey, wakey
Eat well
It's your Daddy, I mean attorney
You're really been being very bad.

If you insist, I will.
Learn obedience
or patience or something
in between,

a kernal of obedience?
I'll never promise that,
in order to give it to freely.
I was afraid to let you in.

They were menacing,
stamping us into tiny little molds.
Insistent that we are,
what they think we are.

Did they convince you
that I'd gone off and left you?

No, changing that would require
quantum amounts of convincing.
Was not mistaken that it was you,
just attacked by encroaching apiculture

That is how it felt,
How it feels, but subtler now.*
First course correction will be
the sliver of a melody,

Spreading like a depth charge.

Do you hear a little child crying?

Keeper holds up a cheap, placemat
With a pattern of Blackeyed Susans
And says *See that pattern?
You made it.

Came your birthday
Black coffee, a packet of Sweet & Low
I choked when the grounds touched my lips.
You're feeding her and telling her
Your Mommy is the smartest,
most beautiful woman in the world.
I painted white and yellow
petals around the droplets of coffee.
And mailed it off,
My gift, se lah!

It was returned two weeks later.
Marked twenty years!

That was the day we became friends.

This constant presence of you.
It's been a year or more.
You've seen the ugly bits,
The confused frayed edges.

All my lies and hedges,
a time to sit and ponder
On whispers of who I am to people.
Your sweet ****, my sweet heart.

That old whickering tremble
How did I get this lucky?
Bundled up in sweet cliches
Characters of my inner dialogue come to life

May I return to being an individual?
Once I find where I buried my Trust.
All the games and masks?
To conduct a minefield exposition.

My thoughts are so clean and linear
with you, I'm afraid you're synthetic.
A dog bites, it's tail
No one loves a lurker.

There'll come a time
when you'll have to stop hiding,
lay down your mask,
and come face me.

Joining past and present
Is never an easy task
So many different directions
so little certainty.

Too much below the surface.
I built a world for myself.
Invited you in and got leveled
Too much below the surface.

Ever explored a fissure in an iceberg?

No, I have a ritual.
I turn it over and shake it.
Get all the loose crud out,
then take a paperclip & dredge
the remaining particles of detritus,
The dust can,
preferably with a red straw.
Clorox the tops of the keys,
The sides of them
(scrape, if necessary)
Then dredge the bottom again.
Repeat with the phone, the 10-key.
Blow these actions up,
Apply to thoughts, actions, emotions
Swirl it all down the drain...

You are not alone,
but you are
then you're not,
They turn it and tumble it.
Ecking, every last drop of you.
And you wish you were.
Resist.
Imagine the Cloud

No eres solo,
pero estas solo,
entonces eres no.
Se la vuelven, y la voltean.
Eking todas las gotas de ti.
Y deseas que eras.
Resiste.
Imaginás la Nube.

Inspired by Francisco DH's Cray Cray & Silent Writer's work as well

Stalking lion,

Do you miss the way I touch you?
It's just that you long to be touched like that.

Were you shocked to find I knew of your crime?
We've met before, she warned me it's souls you control.

Your method of approach was unwise and unseemly.
The accidents, the rumours, the campaign to search and destroy.

So here I am rife with anxiety,
seeking emotional primacy under your barrage attack.

The outflow of promises to be kept, leaving a wake trail like a dreadnought.

And thus we called the Conqueroo,
to dance the king snake to ashes.

Cuando estas muerto,
quiero su alma para mio.
Porque su alma es como el sol
Sin caprichos

I want to know your soul as my own.
I want you to haunt me.
The radiance and beauty of
you is blinding.

They say you got my gift to you
My apology for all the bitter days
of teary silence and rage.
Yes, I played it tricky & deep.

They knew too much
about too many private things.
Dream language is the tool of hypnosis
Creates a window into the dreamer

The front door with majestic scenes
of a lazy lioness and her pride,
At the foot of acanthus leaved columns,
That was built by my sister, the engineer.

She learned the language
From a pair of twins from some
small Texas germantown
Never told her, I built a back door,

To which I gave you the key.
They say he cut you cruelly-
To keep you from mucking up their profit,
To keep you from abandoning your race.

All for a few minutes of wisht?
Stole a few years of my dreams
scribed and kept set away for you.
I'm glad we found a better way.

If I wake to find it's just another dream,
I don't know what I'll do.
It's the wildness they hate in us.
They only thynk it's about race.

Just a fleeting event,
A minute to be young
and committing reckless acts
of faith in each other.

On a moss covered rock,
In the cave of thought and spring rain
Facing one another
with nothing but love between us.

He knows it now.
He sees this simple knot
with the compassion of one
who loves us both.

Til the deed's complete,
We'll dance this circle of us
With all the resolve & beauty we can.

Tuvo miedo
Dijo que cuando duerme
Las mancitas gritan
sobre el rió Lethe.

Hay alguien con él,
pero ellos no sepan quien.
Mi hemana lo vio.
Alguien enseñándole.
Es alguien con
derecho ancestral.

A veces, respuestas vienen
Es mi ñaño, hermano mió.
A veces, las creamos.
A veces, lo agradezcamos.

Then a voice comes and says
It was a stranger, pays by the hour
You got jacked, hacked, attacked
Your mind was theirs when we got here

There was a time spent
pretending it wasn't possible.
Sad, sick strangers, ******* you!
But I dreamed of my beloved four.
They ****** my spirit, like a battery.

Then he came, the covenant,
time to turn and escape their nets.
Down into the pit, a crucible.
To treat with my paladin

We tend the metasphere in secret,
Honor bound in sacred duty
Terrapin are we.

As if we were peregrines,
we played like Ancients, lover

Cadence and rhythm pattern like sheet music on a sine wave.
Music rhymes as my fingers stretched to walk your drum.

We were interrupted, caught and held
In the hands of masters and teachers
Still I reached for you, only to find a kata, then a lay.

Searched the whole way home. Negotiating and maneuvering the quantum spaces of my soul for more you.

A knave to hold a soft core;
Schist, basalt, limestone!
A cross, kaleidescoping until it's square then into a passkey.

Solids, Solipsis, a patterned plane was your gift, almost as cruel as mine.
Given me, as due, for my recognition of your soul.
Your belief is a gaes, almost as burdensome as your mistrust.

A blindside for a blindside.