In deepest wood
  A home once stood
Roses bloom by chimney fall
       An old stone wall
Lines remnant trail
Gives heed to open well
                     Where lilacs trace
                           An empty space
                       And fills the air
              With scent to wear
                 An apple tree
       And mulberries
           An old home site
                 In morning light

r  ~  9Mar14

The white-breasted nuthatch
upside down the ancient bole.
If it has no soul, neither do I.

Pencils criss-crossed on the desk,
sticks tangled on the ground.
Oblong lenticels, yellow stars.

We try to worship the divine
in our ****** partners. They **** and sweat diurnally
and fear their deaths. But the abstract

God has also died. He lied to say he was
eternal. Earth must burn, universe grow cold.
Old field species become ornamentals.

Mosquitoes prey on us, and black flies.
The body decays, and this is what you come
to love. And the ants that carry it away.

This morning, the profusion of species
contents me. The temperate zone is warm, late May.
The posture of that bird is good to emulate.

in beds where flowers grow
well-kept, neat and clean
they've let the kale and cabbage go
it's rather a pitiful scene

they grew quite tall, they flowered
and then they went to seeds
now they're looking oh so cowered
they could be seen as weeds

their stems are gnarled and knotted
the ends are brittle brown
their roots will soon be rotted
the whole plant is dragging down

please someone be gentle
save them embarrassment
these lovely ornamentals
that once were so elegant

Gold: What a perilous color
If you knew me you would complete this sentence: The dance of my hands...

Take away the ornamentals
If you were a maze I’d keep
the funnel going
And leave you on the ground
You keep trying
How can I refuse this history
Your eyes on me
In the times
I didn’t even know
I was scared

Metaphor of the golden chair:
Grounding in the chair
Stability and steadiness

The chair
A stained engraver of wisdom
A distanced observer
never goes away
It levitates
without a floor
There can be no door

Sat in the corner with a cushion under
the past
Do we spin and spin until we’re settled?

A sand dune still smiles
even
in its discomfort
Overhearing the conversation

Let’s talk about our night on the rooftop
I’ll I had to do was open my arms
Stick out my eyes tussle my hair
handprint my aura on your tongue
And still you persist

The shape of the chair
Obtuse and contained
Its insides are safest when left to its own devices shield itself from any interrupters
Sun rays spanning
Untouchable
Royal
Snakes
Guard the
Mysterious

Gift giving celebration
A secret wish
It turns on it sides
Still confident  
A Neon light
Fills my sanguine sensitivity

Can we see feelings that cannot be seen?
To felt feelings; the purest kind of seeing
This is 5D vision baby. I mean it.

Open the drawer this time
The chair will unlock your world
from the inside
Your mind
mind reads my insides
All over again  
Open it up
Unwrap the words with your lips
Now look up with your serene
chiseled
Face
me
You’re facing the other way
after you
read it
to
me

Makes me smile hard and true
like the lotuses laid calmly across
my *******

Let your glands embrace the message
I have been saving for you
genitalia secreting the flow

It’s more than that
There’s a layer left
To feel relaxed
Taken apart even in its sturdiness  
Above
the invisible ledge
Where this chair sits