Foment in a sea of green
With torment in its tail,
Writhing in performance
Wrenching in its flail.
Rationale cavorting
In ocean lost to foam
With rank and file aborting
Its chaotic flight for home.

Truth defiled to window
Pride divorced to flaw,
International prestige lost
To reputation’s door.
Pitiful to spectate
Administrators fawn
As those, once great, capitulate
To observation’s yawn.

America capitulates
Sunk beneath the waves
As pinkly, pouting proffers
It tweetingly depraves.
Once great, to teeter terrified
On brink of void’s abyss
I see dead eyes, expressionless,
Lurch on to farewell’s kiss.

M.
Observing, in horror, the demise of something once…. Great.
Taranaki, New Zealand.
25 October 2017

an average human creature should such a mythical exist
in a lifetime will celebrate about 2,200,000,000 heartbeats,
billions of heartbeats per minute (I prefer moment)
but like everything so essence human there are
those very few heartbeat moments,
the ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
that you total truly remember,
recalling the cream and sauce,
swell and the hell,
of the pounding so slow so hard,
each one a volcano of
a moment until that day
you don't remember-anything

when she said yes and you're shaking and beating in a
*****-tonk rhythm cause you were heart undressed unsure
and truly afraid of a rejection that makes a heart stoppage
disallowing visions, to be exponentially happy future imagined

you're feeling your heartbeat
in your knees going weak,
when the doctor says:

congratulations healthy swell
and/or
some years later,
I'm so so truly sorry, hell

when they hand you a long handle shovel no instructions needed and that scoop of earth weighs two tons and the sound of slow reverb in your head hurts like hell and you lack the strength to move and they move you aside quiet gentle like
but inside the temple of the two headed hydra-heart,
it's the rock and roll of slo mo, the violin crying, the drumming of
heavy metal chords plucked so slowly, it's you froze screaming

a billionaire of heartbeats you are,
but only ten or twenty maybe forty total in a lifetime
you total truly remember with the perfect clarity and
forever renders into your own unique orchestral symphony,
your true net worth, the stripes you wear
upon your shoulders skin,  
the tune when you hear it and melts you into rigidity

you fall to your knees wherever you are,
that is where you will find me,
just listen for the cars horns blaring
cursing the man lying in the street, re-listening to
ten or twenty maybe forty heartbeats total in a lifetime

you alone total truly that concert set recall and
the win-loss record inherent, inhiment,
in both of them, tears and the rents, all there in the tunes,
of forty beatings you took,
somehow it feels like here is, there was,
the answers to
where is shelter for the heart,
the answers that have gone and come and gone and someone says,

I don't feel a pulse

Eventually
all of it must burn..
The isolated thoughts
which claim identity..
An appearance
posing as permanent..
Simply knowing
a thought as appearance
an appearance
coloring the Knowing
is the spark
igniting
The Fire...

gotta, no gonna be like
aesop and his fable
slap a moral
on the table
talk about
old slow poke
tortise on his hike
up against a speed freak
hare  

zikes

this is harder that
it seems
like interpereting dreams

better yet
start again
find a new refrain
gotta make an original
stain
gotta use my incredible brain
bring a new flavour
new story to savour
not some tired old jam
not for this poetry slam

so here goes
follow the flow
stay in the know

don't be a facsimile
a sad printed copy
take the high road
and write a new load
of originality

be one with totality
up at the mountains peak
where the angels speak
to those,
who have time
to listen.

one word, one world
glows and glistens
that word be, free
that word be LOVE
and love be liberty
to a soul broken

so the morale of
the day
freely give love away
as truth,
not a carnival token

the wise old woman
(yeah that be me)
now has spoken.

done now with
her word spin
done now

gotta go do
as she say
take some action

go give a nobody
a kind reaction
some hugular compaction

be a friend
to the friendless
the possiblities
endless
let charity
have a say
be brave this day

go on now
be on your way



-fin

She was made of a language
no one could hear
and hand written in perfect cursive
by the scripture of the stars
and made from the sea and salt
of an ocean lost in a tear
and the color of blood
gave her lips all
of its crimson and rage
and she was there
when dreams took their first step
out into the void of the time of nothing
and she weaved his heart
from the poetry of leaves
and his bones from the past
before death had a cloak or a reason
and his flesh from
the soft skin of her kisses
and she tied the string of his heart
to the beat of her own
and no matter the story
or time of eternity
they would find one another
in the pages and between the covers
of the dreams they would have
and the life they would share
as they would invent
and discover and write
and rewrite the books of love
in the language no ears could hear
or eyes could see
but ever heart would feel
in between their first and last beat

By Arcassin Burnham


Beautiful and unique snowflakes fall from heavens
And each and every one of y'all had fallen in deliverance,
The kids that were always quiet and a lil crazy in disguise,
But will open up hearts even when they were despised,
And when the others bully you,
Make you feel like an disgrace,
The emptiness consuming you,
To make you fail at any pace,
The memories will go away,
Thinking nothing will ever change,
The memories won't go away,
Almost nothing ever changed,
Feeling like no one had cared about the things wrong in your life,
I would have always been there for you anytime, day or night,
I hope you sit up in the stars and embrace life eternally,
The memories are dead and gone,
And now you can be free.

You followed down through the gathered pages
to the  labyrinth that leads back through the changes
A long and twisted line of unmapped rivers,
*** holed low-roads and tattered mileposts
glancing homeless back-alleys as dark as lonely crossroads

Past the broken wings that fell from skyward treetops
scattered feathers amongst rose petals wilted
at the hand of tear stained faded photos
of frozen black and white faces;
hidden ghosts in the closet that fell from grace

The pathway narrows where the traces dissipate
passing under burning bridges, beneath locked stairwells
A fickle feather floating upon rivers ragging
like the hubris disconnectedness of time rolling out to sea ―
Shadows growing darkest as you reach the blackest silence
and you kept the answers to all the questions at arms length
hidden in the darkness ― where you saw love disfigure me

It was then and there I knew I'd dreamed of someone like you
looking for someone more than I could ever be
Just an unsated curiosity,    trying to see beyond
your own misunderstanding,   to feel and touch
an unknown depth beyond  reach

As sunset pales the distantness, the night is yours alone
when  tomorrow's  morning  rain
hangs  on  the  falling  leaves       ―       I’ll  be  gone
Just a wayfaring loner in a lonely world

Where rivers are only water
                                         and love was once a flowing river
I thirst to swallow ― 
                                         to wash away these tracks of my tears ...


                                      rivers ... 2017

Blade grazes skin in horizontal hatred
teaching lessons in guilt and lies
crying truth that won't break the surface
which hides the tar that seeps
through a soul unseen

Prtty, Prtty smile
on a Prtty, Prtty girl

and the lines break surface tension
'twas all the glue would hold

Every turn a reflection in karma and self-loathing
perceived as an undeserved consequence
of a past that holds no regrets

One layer breaks free
and he fails to see her cracks
through the scars he was forced to stitch alone
with the rusted skewers of time

A second pass and the blade runs clean
as idle threats yield no change
a liar demanding truth of the one who gives it freely
as it has always been

Only seeing lies oneself would tell
unable and unwilling to realize
that the truth remains true
even when seen through one's own lies

Beaten into submission
that reeks of forced pity
only covers the truth
with lies that make one feel like

A Prtty, Prtty girl
with a Prtty, Prtty smile