my sacred
electromagnet
pulses white light
then vanishes into black

strobing me blind
as fragile fingers feel
along walls for doors
stumbling over furniture

wick flickering
flame dance
amid changeling winds

Slicing avocado with a grain of rice
I add a pinch of salt to the flesh
And the pulp of an Urchin, thumbed -
From the Sea, with a frozen teardrop
shaped like a hook.
I mistook your Virginity for Indolence.
You smote my ardor, with apathy
and Grace.

Carving the pumpkin with a blade of grass
I save the seeds to roast over blarney stones.
As i blacken the plantains with shards
Of Ash Wednesday and night sugar _
You broaden your scope to match the vistas
Of my Accusation... You false my Hope
with a True Face.

As i groom my submission.

Oh, What a View!
      from this hazy morning hue,

Familiar faces        interlacing
    back-trip Flashes
Heart is Racing

In my brain &
  through my veins
i still feel the
                       ACID STAIN

Recollections of
Reckless Havoc,
Wreaked when I was
Trapped in Magic

man
  last night
                                           who was i ?

  right now i'm fading from my sight

I am here while i am There
and I have yet to    Find my Mind .

it's like a drum that has no voice
that drums... a platonic yes
that has no wisdom
to bleed less about the world
but yet, bleats like a lamb
to quell the gristle
of an unspoken bone
in the air,

a speck of joy
is the space we love in....

and yet we die
for less than the sum
of a heartbeat.
we troll the fathoms
of our derelict
crimes
to arrive at nothing more
than a place
to cry...
and nothing is always
more than a place
to cry-

for joy.

or for
less.

My voice cannot be silenced,
for eons I've been dark,
a fire brought me the poet,
life held,
within a spark,

I've waited in the mountains,
I've drifted in the cloud,
I've divided with the river,
and my voice is pretty loud,

I am the mighty maple,
& I am the tallest cedar,
I've walked among the peoples,
I've stepped out with every leader,

I've soared above with eagle,
I've flown with every flag,
I've died with every soldier,
I came back in every bag,

I am the mighty heavens,
I am the rivers, lakes and streams,
I am in all you ever realize,
I am the wish in every dream,

I am a big ol' waxing moon,
I am in a starlit sky,
I am in every flower bud,
I am the thread in every eye,
I am in every sweet hello,
I'm in every sad goodbye,

I am the from bravest people,
& I am the fearsest one,
I am a savage warrior,
I am the shining sun,

I burn in every fire hot,
as I rage an angry fist,
for those who do not know,
why not?
this life a precious gift,

I've walked a million miles,
been on the valley floor,
I've climbed the highest summit,
& in the depths of hell before,
I've swam the biggest ocean wide,
I swam back to love on shore,
I always share in all I have,
I receive the humble poor,
I'll help with any needs you ask,
with an ever open door,

I ask not that you must like me,
or agree with all I say,
I say respect who is the person first,
I say respect the only way,
I fold my hands to hope that you,
you hear these words I pray,

I pray you show all loving kindness,
stop ignorance and human blindness,

I am me,
I am you,
I am us,
we... are all really the same.

Ma Cherie © 2017

down the stairs, where the creak-feet of descent
will silence a cricket in the room; there with couch
and the bookstand, oak and glass....
sedate features; the odd bust of an Inuit matriarch-
staring at your blouse like it were forged
in blasphemies and trade winds.
down there, where we keep the cat riveted to the headlights
of our armored car.

in the seam

the coffee table is strewn, right down the middle
with old magazines and straw placemats.
a stain that never fades,
stands in the garden of cigarette butts and dog-eared -
post-it notes
to a glass scarecrow.
a mound of bric-a-brac
and fingerprints.

it's sticky
where two people
made the love
that made the mess...

but it's hollow where they never met.
and you can see the carpet through the permafrost.
our lens
immune to domain.
free to see the whimsy
in a spot of bother
about a broken
heart.

down where the television skin is the thickest. our ironic muse.
just a spritz of cultured sabotage,
and the good sense to go mad
without disturbing the peace....
the same peace that almost -
cost us the war.

at the very least.

with all the symphonies drained from the pool
it was high time to embark on a pointless quest
and be good at it. a trickster god hiding a strip of meat
from your impotent beak. you in your white vest
stark where the sun has bleached your horrors
as the new star startles the dark omens of your open pores
and more's the pity... the void has come to it's senses
to forfeit you in a game of pawns
thrashing about in infinite malaise... conjuring misfortune
till the dams burst and the siege begins.
it was high noon when the hollow yawned at your purpose
and your wings scorned the sky,

you miss how the comets laughed,
but can't seem to remember why.

again and again, the world renews the spike in the palm
and north winds bear down upon the inky black
where dead stars illuminate the zodiac of our inner defeat.
an upturned display of seedless fruit against a backdrop
of discrete harm... and the south wind scratching at the twinkle
of a last act. a mirage of poppies and golden wheat
from which the bread of our maker is baked into the glamor
of so much solitude in a galaxy
in your house.

from the dirge, the strange love is capsized
and many leagues burgeoning with hordes
of faint bliss, lull in the twilight surge
of rogue waves.

i am encumbered by the seagull's joy
at the wreck of my starboard hearth
and the embers of my crow's nest, faint..
as i glean the remote symmetries
of my abandoned map
the bone ship cometh
from anon.

i am long in the tooth of it.
a shambles and a youth.
the world is burning as my sails launch
my futile heart.
i disembark and return swollen.
i come undone
to refuse
to end
it.

and then some.