•~

we are 
push and pull

both beautiful 
and ugly

what we are
lies primarily in the timing

~•

if I was just a boy once more
back in the old town
doing boys stuff with
the old gang and the bell rang
for the school day
I wonder if I'd stay
and learn this time,

and if I met you then again
would it be different
or the same
would that I could feel
that fresh pain
of my first love.

but it's ifs and ifs don't work
they're just like a might have been
and we've all seen them pan out,

what if ifs could be made to happen?
happen then in some time machine
I could be that might have been
that never was but is now.

~
Pieces of this and that

From remember when

It used to be a flowershop

She used to smell of roses

Panting church candles

Now and again

From the quiet corner of absolution

Eyes closed to the dusk of sensualité

In search of lost time

"yearning for a song of reply"
~

because it  burns  you
you don't like the sun
and the shadow doesn't buy a story,
It knows its edges and the milky ways,
attached to a leaf tail
chlorophyll counts its rays,
***** energy from its light,
- we grow elephant ears,
our heads have shrunk like the peak of a needle
bifurcated,
time does not lie
instead of being permanently bent
head
now it is one meter above the ground
hands / feet / thighs
we do everything we want in upright bipeds
yes,
to get out of africa
we walked thousands of years until we  picked up "the first thumb up"
then again we walked thousands of years,
we raised the thumb up again
thousands of years ... thumb (up) drive one gigabyte,

time does not lie

- i saw you at the țoțora in the polk of medhorotsky,
with the toma from brăila digging  ditches to keep your feet lower,
at a french carnival, you loved a girl and called her by the name
consuelo, mon amour, consuelo, - you wielded swords,
used feathers to write (with the blood) on a soap bubble
you were looking for

the time that does not lie

did you say:

- the night is just beginning to taste like molasses
- from afar, you see love like a bloated balloon lost in the distance
- to recognize the shape of the earth, i have to feel the stars beneath my feet,
to see the one above my head
- people are programmed to see faces even in sandwiches,
to believe strange things, that they can walk on the water or
like in little prince  to believe a talking fox: “though the eyes are eyes, they cannot see,
only the heart can,
tame a flower, and you”ll see that time does not lie ... ”
then what can you expect from the sun
when it burns like a madman in the wilderness and dances like a *****,

hallucinate

they say we are 13.7 billion light-years from the edge,
how  the sun not to like you when it heard you singing a song without a sound,
so simple and clear,
and now every morning it brings you a basket of jackfruit at the gate,

be ”the edge” truth or assumption,
”the foam that forms us and breaks into a vast cloud of styrofoam bbs” (Ken”s words)
who knows, otherwise
it seems that we are close to knowing the real shape of the earth:
jump up, fall on it, is  not  moving,
standstill and solid,
it doesn't matter which way you want to go
you can go in any direction
go far enough
go as far as you can
you will always reach the ocean

did you say:
- we live on an island

When  I was a small child in a little town up in Washington State, there was a kid’s radio show that came on every day at 3:30 PM starting each December first.  It was called “The Cinnamon Bear” and was the fantasy story of two children trying to get back the star for the top of their Christmas tree that had been stolen by a bad character. Each show was only 15 min. long, and half of that was taken up reviewing what happened the day before.  There were endless twists and turns to the plot and the kids showed their plucky spirit  in order to overcame all sorts of little obstacles and finally get the star back on Dec. 24.  The show ended with them putting it atop the tree.
We neighborhood kids always raced home from school to hear the program and we let nothing get in our way. It played every year from a radio station in the nearest big city, which was Portland OR.  By the time we were too old for the story, we practically knew it by heart. In all my years I’ve never encountered anyone outside of South-west Washington who ever heard of it.  But “The Cinnamon Bear” was magical to us kids.  I searched for years and finally found a cassette tape of the entire show.  It’s one of my treasures.
                           ljm

I love you.
I really do.
Honestly and cross my heart.
You’re my sweetie sugar Baby.
And I’m thrilled to be with you.
I don’t care about your money,
I’m just glad you have a lot.
It means we can do special things
And eat in fancy places
And you will know much I love you.
It means that we can travel
To exotic destinations
And I can show you how
I never notice other young men,
And how faithful I will always be.

I love you so much, Pookie Pie,
I really, really, truly do.
You mean everything to me
I don’t care about your mansion
It’s just a place to hang the
Couture clothing that you’ll buy me.
I won’t even see the maid
And the Gorgeous Spanish pool boy.
My eyes will only be on you
Especially as you buy the jewels
I didn’t have to ask for.
I hear the rumors and the whispers
About why we are together;
But I say poo-poo to them
You’re my sugar boo-boo-baby.
As long as you are happy spending,
You will know that I love you.
               ljm