Beauty
        comes
                at
                  Midnight
                         as
                           hopes
                                 and
                                     dreams
                                              take
                                             flight
                                       peaceful
                                 feelings
                                      of
                              safety
                          and
                      love
                guild
          through
                 morning
                            light.......

and you go like around nothing acting upon
momentum and the impetus
the maximum speed just slightly this side of the light
gravity-less atmosphere the better to drag your
*** through the after day physical retch
the warp speed drag
a day without bounds tends to make you stretch
left bottom lip hanging right eyelid droop
afraid to look
in the mirror above the transporter porcelain full of puke
that's how this space-time warps
a twentieth century dude
now alive breathing all this twenty-first century
technological slime
hiding away in an eighteenth-century agrarian community where
half the people are ****** I think,
maybe not, just they got bald patches and long crooked noses and big arms on skinny tall torsos
look like human ancestors in a way, they know everybody,
clusters of them in two bedroom houses and relatives with tattoos of
names under their glossy dead eyes hair that stands up on end
blossoming smells.
But, hey, I'm one them now. Losing my integral data on a strata set
confused.

you me and
blue
transitions
and far off horizons painted with wishes
one day....
we always say

tracing palms with fingers
soothsaying or prophesizing
cards played
wide-eyed amazed
grazing at life's tender
shoots

when as always it all
is so much simpler
than the mortal life
absolves on
a daily day all
tormented coiled inside
are ten million squirms
for every cry

never one answer

but one eternal theme
that rose blossoms true
and the vernal winds cool
once came a blue
on a storm's distal
view

and for every glint
of the sun comes a
distant hologram on the eye
a corresponding elegant
glow that lasts

into your visage a sign
that not all life and reality is
destined at once
to be recognized
just take things at face value a wary grace
faith if you will

and see
the sky
blue

that's all  my wisdom

✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿ ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿

                                That place of [Home]
                                        where
                                                      the
                                       heart
                                                    feels
                                                             ease
                                that place of comfort
                           where the soul can breathe.

                                 [Feelings] of warmth
                                       upon
                                                  the
                                                         skin,
                                       a touch of love
                                    from deep within.

                                A [Place] of gentleness
                                            amazingly
                                               divine,
                                        a loving heart
                                    this home of mine.

                                 [Sweetened] longings
                                                        ­        as
                                                             I
                                                   write
                                            this
                                   poem,
                                   for the one I Love
                                  my forever [Home]
                                        ✿ڿڰڿ♥♥ڿڰڿ✿

The tender song of your soul
flows to me with such ease,
feeling your spirit embrace me
like the kiss of a warm breeze.

A soft flowing melody
like a rivers grand design,
flowing water reflects love
tween your soul and mine.

The elegant flow of water
like loving words we speak,
causes my heart to pound
or grow blissfully weak.

That flowing whisper of love
from sweet honeyed lips,
caress my soul gently
like soft moving fingertips.

The tender song of soul to soul
a loving melody of treasure,
with our souls proclaiming
“A Love of now and Forever.”
~

he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."

I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough

one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.

"you can make it," I said to him.

he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.

you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"

but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"

"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"

I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...

it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.

he too knows it's ******* but that somehow it all helps.