VERY SLOWLY
How many years have drifted by,
Time rushes swiftly on.
And I, at times, pause myself,
So very slowly I go,
And in myself get lost.
Very slowly,
I take my time,
To lose myself,
Within my being,
Deep in thought.
I take my pause,
So very softly,
I look and listen,
I lose myself within,
Cease thinking,
And only feel,
That beating heart,
That soul,
That throbs,
That feels,
And I forget,
Of everything, no more.
I turn to me,
And let myself just sleep,
Within those dreams.
Sometimes I read verses,
So very softly,
Just as I like it.
Very calm,
I stop my clock,
And rest.

Stories, reports from wars past, haunt me,
in spirit sensing wondering,
perplexing twisted strands
from National histories
kept for posterity, seen as certain
evidence of life being as reasonless
as distant suns in swirling galaxies.

The business of making ends meet,

make any punctual sense, ends now.

------------------

Dear, the word, intends
to express worthiness, valued

by cost, not
to make or gain the dear thing, but
by pain
at the loss,

remembering reason,
reattaching whole
required why lines, dangling

Among the many joys,
eudaemonia, silliness in the sense lost

nine cousin romps in the lawn sprinklers,

secrets sacralized sold
for students tempted so,

sacred vow bound logic

-
mid-14c., logike, "branch of philosophy that treats of forms of thinking;
the science of distinction of true from false reasoning,"
-

Refine elemental whying, trying, taking
for good, leaving
as worthless but
for marking
in mind, poisonous deception

Games of getting to the perfect peace,
having no driving curiosities or prides,

mystic authority granted me, poetically,
costly so-called sciences, I am, by faith,

for which homeostasis is the reason, ready,
balance of energy store and energy conversion

self guided discovery, so deep is one's ignorance,
self sorting discourses through mortal events, time
since e verily was allegorically massively imaginable

at thought sped enlightenment intended
to disrupt rote thought, symbol assignments
and general intelligence deceptive practices,

the bread and butter of the business of Psyche,
logic by which mankind live and learn and lead
those yet to be to become augmented generally
intelligent choosers of values… versus costs, price

personal, what portion of one's daily bread is paid,
back by me, the muse user enjoying being alive,
and safe, high in the coastal foothills environs,
practically perfect weather for happy humans,

gatherers more than hunters,
crafters more than manufacturers,
traders more than sellers or buyers,

but lacking religion, woe is them, indeed, if
all the witnesses to Hell, sent back to spare us,
perdition due the ignorance of original foul sin,
are not exalting their knowledge of damnation,
against the sacred knowledge of good and evil.

Live evil lurks in mere repetitioning prayer error.

Hooks in Jim Morrison's oevre, say… you cannot

imagine a reality without disgusting disdain for order,

order, in the court… witness under oath testing if we
agree, this is the ever we got this morning, as we rose

from slumber… we, thee linking me… in mind, inspired
thought, amused bemusement refusing confusing truths,

God loves Hell, love's it, or…

blasphemy, accuse me, gospel performer professional,
j'cuse, indeed. Did I dare to die for the American Story,

Home of the free, Land of the brave, oh, say, can you,
remember the first hand grenade WHUMP! can you,

not mirror neurologically callused startle response wise,

real deal, dead people, blood, smells, smoke, silence,
deaf deal with it… accept

therapy, publish, or perish, laugh and live free in truth,

not simple, but sub-elementally perfectly sublime

---------
The news from my future,
is mentally actively spiritually leading,

holding my circumstantial ordinariness,

spending a lifetime to reach one last day,
which can, we may imagine, be any day.
---------

Meaning in landmarks set as scenes,
who imagines whose mind's lost all hope,

who can, as a God-fearin' man, *** boy, cowboy,
drifter with a gift of gab and a deck of cards,
declare 'is whole soul forfeit, should he lie.

Bet me I did not beat my own demons, just
now, for the rest of my life, on the most likely last

day, I spend this way, like it were that very one.

The day called Judgement day, same  size day
as those in that original week, rest assured. What?

Obfuscation, cultural integrity, opposing
the holy Pharisees of mutual warring wills.

---------------------

In word form, as a thought, logic is open
seeping sneaking suspicions suggesting surety,
has an am big is us re-both-knowing ness spirit form
for a ready reader, list as doth the spirit, sure hot
wind in a gape jawed face, asking if this may be real
as has been realizable
since commercial radio, propagating productive
personal mysterious
signals sent via zeitgeist,
which reasserts itself, prodigious certainty of purpose,

what do I wish, what do we wish, we, with us in it, me
and you wishing we felt some fealty due the heroic me…

what if expressing a self, molded military mind model,
in a complex religious mystery granted symbols just as

right angled and perpendicular to gravity, per se

timely, chance, definite purpose, be as good as truth,

no harm, no foul, patiently pretending toward goodness,
as do little green apples, and children in my vicinity, true,

all the children in my house, and yard today, are good,
universal attestations, any ever experiencing, such a July,
presume these kids are as happy as can be, today
where I happened just to be, he who chose
to stick and stay and make it pay, by faith
some how, kindalike an intuition,
by now, this'd be real, an actual poetic privilege,

the truth that once the best that I could think or ask, a day,

whole, no ritual mass or mirror mantra back atcha, one day,

surrounded by children, literally running around my house,
and squealing little girl laughter at little boys rolling in mud.

no one loves you
as I do
no one cares for you
  as I do
no one sees you
as I do
no one serves you
as I do
no one hold you close
as I do

To be as still as flowers in a vase –

Ones captured on a canvas bare and white,
Sprung forth by a Renoir’s or O'keefe's delight,
Delighting me when I see face to face
The painted hues and light imagined first
In frenzy, and slowly then crafted,
Created through practice, then mastered
Through weeks and years, repeated and rehearsed –

Oft comes, it’s said, from quiet in a life.
My serene certainty comes while racing
Through the woods of life, with stumbled pacing,
Crying as branches lash across one eye.

My stillness springs forth, with largesse,
With joy and sorrow, from distress.

Skin on skin,
Fingers interlocked,
Hair cascades down,
My stomach tied in knots.

Breathing grows heavy,
Anticipation runs high,
When I caress you,
The most rewarding sigh.

Your eyelashes flutter,
Brushing against my cheek,
Eyes closed in surrender,
No words we need to speak.

I trace constellations
Across your beating chest,
Each quiet inhalation
Sings my worries to rest.

You pull me closer still,
Hands settled at my waist,
Time slows to a hush
In this sacred, silent place.

Locked within this embrace,
I fear making the wrong move-
A connection so unexpected,
This beautiful moment with you.

When the world grows
too loud or too fast,
it’s a good idea
to take a step back
and huddle away
into an empty space
where neither sound
nor time
can hurt you,

let silence envelop
your soul—not your self.

Eventually
the grass will grow
and the wind will settle,
all will slow
like in a lush meadow,

and far away
will the struggle drift.

The sky will grow white
with clouds that never rain,
gardens will grow green
without a single ****,

the sun will beat down
not bullets but care,
that nurtures the grass blades
through growth
and lifts the vapour into
the air.

Dimensions and galaxies will
pause,
for the universe cannot
feed.

And all will be.

Sun beating down
the tide comes around
with the gusts of
wind—adrenaline

rushes by as the sea
hushes the rustle of the trees
and the blinding rays of gold
lining the clouds above

Like a tear in the blue
And the light shining through
The comfortable blanket
the tangled net

That is a peaceful day
Coming to an end.