~
Silver water
flowing out from under
moon-less-ness

Beautiful daughter of the stars
dancing in eclipse, remembering
the season of the sun

And how her
calculating love survived
its long hibernation
~

My heart keeps floating east
to the place of my birth
along the brown rushing waters
of the awesome Mississippi
the vast Atchafalaya basin
where the boys  
of fishermen and hunters
become men.
Oaks drip with moss
cypress trees grow out of swamps
and exude a mystic charm
that pierces your mood
and captures your fancy.
La Nouvelle-Orleans
born in centuries past
gateway to a new life
for my forefathers
who crossed oceans from France
made families for the generations
and planted their culture
amidst the rich foliage
and damp environs
of this magnificent mysterious place.
Yes, I yearn to cross the Sabine
make my way to Breaux Bridge
and other Evangeline towns
eat crawfish etoufee
by the Bayou Teche
speak my Texanized accent
to my Cajun cousins
who tell their stories
with a hint of French
and laugh in a universal language.
Soon I hope to make the trek
to quinch the yearning of my heart
hug my cousins
breathe the poem of my life
and the moist fragrant Louisiana air.

The tired twig broke.
A lone Leaf went into a free fall.
It softly landed on the ant hole.
A bustling empire descended into permanent darkness.

Wing tipped tongues
Utter madness as their wings fly away.
It's art. Like a trash bag floating down an empty street.
Empty words float and circulate the masses.

Consumables.
We eat media, satisfied by garbage.
Wiping the latest episode of Tiger King off our chins,
We chomp on clickbait desserts.

The writers, thinkers, and philosophizers
starve.

Searching for anything with substance
they revisit old watering holes.
The marrow has been ****** from literature,
The cave is too real to re-enter,

But there is a rumble from within.

Weak but present.
The uprising is upon us!
Writers, Thinkers, and Philosophizers, rise!

Rise and pluck the birds from the sky,
steal their wings and soar.
Soar across time and spread the wisdom that has been bestowed upon you.

There are more faults
than the San Andreas
but it doesn't pay us
to mention them,

Pride comes before pricy
in the dictionary,
ha
can you picture me
searching through the dictionary
looking for this?

One must take pride
and make of pride
a
part in everything
we do

I try to,
sometimes I fail.

this daily death
and nightly rebirth
these swelling buds
and falling leaves
this piling snow
and torrential flow

this in- and ex- halation

this building warmth
and inertia of cold
this body grows
and then it grows old
this rhythm of life
and imminent death

pervades everything i see
so, could it be
that, perhaps, this rhythm is me

I want a shrine for my remains
A hole full of dirt & creepy crawling things
No preservative fluids pumped in my veins
Just bury me in silk & my favorite rings

I will not pray to extend my existence
I will not be received by the omnipresence
I am undisturbed in my terra firma pocket
with fungus sprouting from my eye sockets