I Want Thunder

But you don’t want rain.
Ocean waves will crash
Fluid and strong and always.
There are days you will storm and cloud.
And there are times of still and blue
Wild and unpredictable killer,
Gives all use to us.
Holds so much life within,
And salt will heal the wound.
The blood between the continents,
Lend me your strength
And your adaptability.
Cleanse my wounds
Smooth the rocks.
Connect me to life.
Wash memories over me,
Currents, direct me.
In and out with tides
Live here on my arm

My life goes crust to core.

explain

my skin my voice my hair, I.
My crust. hard and rugged, rivers flowing,
valleys blooming.
My people and love and life walk here.
And sometimes earthquakes rock me and volcanoes spew my magma.

what is in your mantle

Hot.
swirling and pushing and molding my crust.
inside i am
pressurized,
liable to errupt.
the minerals here closer
to what i really am.

and your core?

in nature:
inhuman, immortal and intangible


in being:
I Dont Know What It Is.



I,
The Globe,
am floating out in space.

Beautiful dying,
Silent, Chill is crying.
Oranges, reds, yellow.
Fire above falls below.
Naked swaying whispering,
Spider’s fingers whistling.
When their white, bones rattled in breeze,
‘Fore at last, comes in the freeze.
Cold sprinkling down,
Cold blankets around.
Covers Chill so binding.
White and blinding
Sleep, Chill, it’s the end.
Darkness in the dead.
And now behold,
Autumn runs from Cold.

Heavy, deep,
Nearly endless sleep.
Cold’s solid slumber,
Renew the green wonder.
Poking up their heads,
From their icy beds.
Open colored eyes,
Extending luring lies.
Bees come in as,
Trees shake away Cold who has,
Retreated to his hiding place.
Now, Warm dances on new leaves with grace.
Breathing spirit and fresh life,
Banishing winter’s strife.

Fresh is never stale,
‘Cuz in comes Hot’s gale.
Humid, parching,
Hot is smothering.
Warm is withering,
Fire hearts a fluttering.
Sun toasts skin,
Cold’s fraternal twin.
Trees turn Oberon green,
But lack the Faire’s mean.
He melts a cool thought,
One of any you have brought.
Spring is dried of a tear,

He wakes at first dawn,
Exposed in the growing fawn.
But falling weaker every day,
Loosing strength in the morning gray.
Chill bites Hot’s back turned,
Leaves change, set to be burned.
She comes back around
*Time passes without a sound
The beauty of the life of men?
All will come, and die again.

Lemon squeezings warming,
and on left
a warm and tingle from the low sun.
My right, shaded winded,
Cools and swirls.
Today is a first.
To shake the cobwebs from our skeletons
and let the sun grow out skin and hair
Back.
With a ray.
all places to see hold pale echos,
Winter's creatures lounging.
A moment suspended,
eternal and perfect.
I always think of the end.
A spark today.
I will always have more first days of Spring
and Winter.

And She says Nature is her God.
All will end in Nothing as Began in Nothing.
this curse of consciousness
binds me up in sorrow.
it is the ability to Know
Of nothing
From nothing
to Nothing.
Put a pretty cover on it.
Cripples my unconscious Bliss.

We lie, We lounge
Among the greats.
We are all to see and be.
Command the world with nothing
and everything we have,
the profound.
We are Greek.
And the first two.
Roman
And Celtic too.
We ARE the world.
Fuzzed humanity.
The most substantial
Nothing
Of 7 billion.