I can tell
from the smile draped across
your cheekbones
and your boisterous thought
pinned like a malicious lapel
three odd words—
“bursting with life.”

Painting the corpse on display,
crammed inside a casket,
dressed in birthday suit.

Am I aching?
Am I in distress?
Do you need words
to tell you of these things?
While you hold a living funeral
for such feelings.

In between us,
a wall,
Before: you said you wanted connection, as you laid one brick after another.
Maybe if you went over you’d see
the emptiness you banished me to.

You,
cold as an ethereal summer,
sifting through gaps of a cracked heart
after being battered by promises offered.

Well excuse me,
if I can't get over the hurt
You do not have to be grateful.
You do not have to see beyond yourself.
You can continue, as you have,
to orbit your own sun.

No, I refuse you
patting tears I cannot cry.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
Meanwhile, my heart, once offered
like an open palm full of seeds,
learns to close, to protect itself from
your drought and wildfire.
You are not the IRS,
neither an accountant,
nor a broker, but a breaker you are
love is not a transaction,
not a ledger to be balanced.

I should have flown with my flock
against the gale of your indifference,
but such curse is youth,
when naiveté is in abundance.

Perhaps the wilderness out there has something safer to offer,
something tamed,
and,
somewhere, the dogwood blossoms
like heaps of uncaring December, covering the ground
in a blanket of white petals.
I want to lie down there,
to press my ear to the earth
and listen to the roots growing,
to the slow, steady drumbeat
of my thumping heart or whatever
is left of it.

I don't need your approval to bloom
so watch me unfurl next season,
my leaves reaching for a kinder light,
my roots deepening into richer soil.

I wish my silence were words for you to read.

The clock is still there in the wall
But no-body is there in the room
to see whether it's hands move.

What good of knowing the exact time
When none has time
The ryhms of our child-hood, we had left
in the green-field decades before.

Now, he keeps peeping into the world through the glass of his mobile phone and
As you know,
the world is too big to see in a life.

So, he has no time to see the ancient wall
or the clock fixed to it
But still the clock moves with passage of time
Like those ryhms of our tongues
Still playing in the green --
Days to months and months to years --
Like the clock in the wall or
the wall with the clock.
+++++++++++++++++++++++

It never occurred to me
That is was a door–
Not a wall
At all.
It’s something I can’t unsee:
The door’s not a wall anymore.
Though physically,
This can be;
Why can’t my life be full of doors
Instead of dead ends on every floor?

When you said to me
“Fireflies in my bedroom”
You meant “Stay with me”
The wall cracked at two am
Though it has not crumbled yet

Patient promise
Live and learn

Preach and teach
Jealous and zealous

Soul and spirit
Body and mind

Plain and simple
Safe and sound

Solid fluid gaseous plasma we
Phase shifted at the time.

For thus saith the LORD
unto the eunuchs that keep my sabbaths,
and choose [the things] that please me,
and take hold of my covenant;
{whose to judge, weightless we}
Even unto them will I give
in mine house and within my walls
a place and a name better than
of sons and of daughters:
I will give them an everlasting name,
that shall not be cut off.
--- thus said the celibate tyranny to the misfits.

The lure of the priesthood? Bribes, or declaration,
by the Authority of the faithful confirming secret acts,

and all minds mingle in pools of times tales told hold,
solid state, firm foundationally times tale told holy.

True, mano y mano, no God can go, being in truth spirit,
not flesh, until the laws of the covenant are filled full,

according to the plan as the prophet called IsAIaH has affirmed
true, when presented
in the finished salvation anointing outpouring.

**, all ye athirst, come drink
think a timely thought, retrace your steps
from first moment, dig for the oldest experience,
when you now
think from that instance in reality to now, I am me, the idea
in my head that I can form words from. with adaptive exposure
to spoken words lifted into we all know realm for our good pleasure.

Settle down, calm the water's, leave go the miracles perceived,
and seek ye first the highest mind's true abode, step out,
great were the numbers publishing freedom now.
Peace works, easily entreated, wisdom woes..;
look back at what we thought we were, users of words, using mind
in general, co-knowing-uses, sensing food smell flower smell, must

brief and half-silent,
in an empty space,
at a corner of my room.
back against the wall,
arms hugging knees
close to the chest,
eyes mid-air,
breathing.

Walls can both protect

and confine you, lock you in --


until they collapse.

She tried to protect the small child inside, did everything she could. Acted like a wall for his words to bounce against, accepted the blame for a behavior which was not her own. Kept her chin up and took on a smile in front of the child, so that the child would not be harmed. In order for this to be successful, no one could know the reason this child was being protected. She constantly stood behind a barrier who kept her from reaching out, all this for the child. It took her a long time to see that these barriers where broken down long ago, matter of fact they might never been there. The child was no longer a child, it was only her. Only her and no one else in reach.