I forgot how fumes worked
   Being enraptured to be
      Like the endless voice
         Above the clouded though
      How intoxicating you were
   In a dream that was solely mine
To me

Where there is fire, there will be light
And pleasure; pain
And loss; anguish
Power and cruelty
Life and joy
Beliefs and extremists
Humans and injustice
Community and friendship
Where there is fire, there will be light
Pray dear friend, that when you search for light
You do not find fire

Defender of the faith in me.
ready, instant in season, out of season -- if

as a farmer kid,
you can make any sense of that. You know,
things grow slow
and ripen too fast to ship to town,

so we wait, having sampled the green stawberry,

we learned that one of patience's first works,
after every winter in life,
is bright, wait for it, solid red strawberries.
Maybe one itty bitty mouse bite,
or wren peck, but that's okeh.

So sweet.
So I wait, defending my faith that life has a very
different way of telling time,

and uses tiny unseeable things to send instructions
when conditions are predictable
for survival of the leaven,

scattered to the heavens, when our puff ***** pop,

with help from wild little boys in my backyard,

which has never had a fence.

My heart thrives on your love,
Please water it with your love,
Manure it with the nutrients of your tender care,
**** out unwanted jealousy,
It will bloom for you,
Only you my precious.
2/3/2020

I recognize
Your inner face
Your memory
Is not erased
Your disposition
Ever shifting
But your inner face
Will never change.

I hold my
jaded angel
while she sleeps.
Her *** snug
against my groin.
I envision
her sanguine
grin while
she dreams of
domesticating me.
I can't believe
that I never noticed
how cute her mouth is.
It's amazing--I'm spellbound.
I want to nibble on
those lips.
The way she uses
her tongue to enunciate
certain words are sensual and
seductive.
I'm apathetic about
what she's reading.
But while I watch
her mischievous mouth move,
I hear Shakespeare's sonnets.

Everyone moves too fast.
Freeways of humanity move like ants
Scrambling for sugar
Or just something to make them feel
A pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel
Or a pinprick of pain,
Arranged against the lonely desert backdrop

On these freeways
Politeness is a sign of submission
Showing our stomach to the apex predators
Wishing they don't move too quickly
To take us from our journey
But we all move too quickly

Like an angry beehive,
Always buzzing with excitement
Or is it fear?
In our mechanized strive for productivity
We lost the slow-moving essence
Of why creation exists

Downshift

And move slowly off the freeway
Away from hill and hive
To park benches surrounded in flowers
Move slowly as your hand touches hand
Your lips touch their lips
Downshift
And take a moment for yourself

never save the best

for last, it is to maximize

weakness.

even if it be saved for you,

see it as what is--no further.

irreplaceable and found

out by a prolonged sleep,

fear thwarts what passionately

retires.

as i furiously dig up-- bare handedly,

that buried guilt.