We danced, the cognate vessels
Nested in walls &
Cowered in blood

We buried love deep into
Beating flesh &
Writhed In Utero

We emptied veins of reason
Laid in torment &
Seceded in white gowns

We--Empiric experiments
We--Deficient devices
We--Thrashing threadbare

We--Womb
We--Woman

--
c

he says to me,
i remember when i was young.
i stood under the bridge
and watched as cars passed above me;
i stood there, alone
with my fishing rod,
waiting.
i waited and longed
to one day be able
to afford more than
a fishing rod.
now, i am fifty years old.
i have more money
than i ever imagined;
i can buy
more fishing rods
than i have fingers.
but i want you to see,
when you watch the cars pass above you;
let them go.
let them pass ahead,
all you need
is what is in your hands already.
because you can't be buried
with a car
with a house;
you can't take money
to the grave.
to live simply,
that is the bridge
between life and death
to the nirvana.

Memories and emotions,
sleeping in silence.
The mind lies dormant.

The thoughts awaken,
they begin to stir,
but just let them be.

Embrace the journey.
Enjoy the seat.

For a secret pleasure it is,
discovering a personal eternity.

Gently I  woke up in an ethereal hour,
as the permeating scent of a wild flower,
after roaming many many lives as insects,birds
animals wild in the forests and sea creatures

As the story went on, chapters changed
I stumbled and fell in to her curious eye
with out knowing who she was or why
all I remember was her radiance and sigh
that lifted me,at once to a level too high

Later,after many cycles,a cloud,I realize this:
a piece of clear blue sky I need immediately
her blue eyes, to dissolve bit by bit and die.

In those apricot-tinged nirvana days,
cigar smoke filled the stuffy restaurant in which we ate.
At the table across from us sat a couple in their fourties,
Him, a toupee-wearing, finger-clicking car salesman,
and Her, the blonde in a tight dress,
glossy white mink and even glossier white stilettos.

She talked enthusiastically about the new eastern religions,
Groups that offered "clarity" and "spiritual guidance" to the dissatisfied Miami girls such as herself.

She said that she wanted a new way of life.
(Secretly, she wanted the young guru who'd promised it to her.)
Toupee protested:
"But honey, we ain't no slaves to the machine!"
The gold Casio watch on his wrist and the tacky pearls she sported said otherwise.