Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
vircapio gale Sep 2012
dry words
urge another form
--monsoons gather
vircapio gale Nov 2014
moss at sunset
embers of green -
a snowflake melts
vircapio gale Oct 2012
waking up groggy--
   no idea why i'm
       in a nightgown
vircapio gale Sep 2012
sparks of memories
from up the nose--
leaf pile invites






.
vircapio gale Sep 2012
on chair
on floor, on earth--
this depends
vircapio gale Jul 2012
sublime dialogue
fashions friendship never worn
warming in the snow
this is my favorite of eight haiku written yesterday while waiting for a very close friend to arrive after a long time apart. i'm posting them together as i'd rather not see them separate:


old addictions known
bring talk habits' future-fold
sipping mint all night
                                                      our soulful laughter
                                                      echoes over ego walls
                                                      sparring in the rain

racing over hills,
time drives faster than us.
stormclouds green and red.

                                                     Quan-yin sways there still
                                                     while Dutch is chasing cars.
                                                     timeless family love

introduced, embraced
the dinner table bonds us.
citrus on the greens.

                                                   precious notes on fire
                                                  abandoned on route to class,
                                                  impossibly found

solace weeks reveal
being generous of heart.
crevice filled of soul
vircapio gale Oct 2012
love outleashed
from hidden zones--
piano found
vircapio gale Oct 2012
ping-pong in the sun
with psychiatrist intern--
"you don't belong here"
vircapio gale Nov 2012
pinhead afterlife--
i fit here warming souls
with frozen belief
vircapio gale Oct 2015
moon ripples
cast away the journey's edge--
neon kiss-patterns
vircapio gale Nov 2012
stargaze wakes
wide dogmatic sleep--
earth revolves
vircapio gale Oct 2012
cannot *******
on this medication -- read
patients' bill of rights
vircapio gale Sep 2012
ecstatic dance wish--                                          
skyward helix sight toward                
comet RNA
vircapio gale Jan 28
flowers wilting
over days, seasons ---
.                                a bear leaps past
.
.
.
.
*the barn porch
with its many snow shovels~
cat's paws in the snow
vircapio gale Mar 2013
tired of haiku,
i go ahead and rhyme for you
a few extra syllables, too
vircapio gale Jan 28
~


a dove's dream,
cooing warmth of
Spring's root-thaw


~


reeds, woods in the wind--
   i sign a freedom-from
   the seas, the fires


~



intertwining vines --
i thirst side to side
down the brittle path
vircapio gale Oct 2015
sunset, sunrise hikes ~
Trillium on Blood mountain ~
true love song blooms


yogasutra song
hiking appalachee trails
with two i love


Rhodedendrons clap,
lush applause to Springer's call--
water in the sky



a tuskless walrus
   chases me up the ladder--
crowds smile through glass*








.
the last one is from a dream. i'm also confused
vircapio gale Jun 2013
dandelion seeds
too tight to fly--
frozen Spring lovers



stream breeze--
pollen ripples into sun,
brace of current bed



inflorescent burst--
                    hikers' boots beside a pool
                              on sun-baked rocks




green buds ***** the air--
in corymb echoes,
fuzz of leaves




water-sounds cascade--
moss-drops, trickles; dog-splash, falls;
gurgles under foot




the tones of waves
tiny on the smooth shore
lipping on






stem-length stars,
streaming rays of sun
and water's deep shade




gentle eddies over stone--
one world,
one world



froth twirl and tendril
under Spring brook shade--
so clear beneath





burl-sprouts misted bright,
cups of water,
forest thirst


                 waterfall gasp--
                                            the cold! the winter! now swim!
the first breaths


Spring Misogi--
pummeled muscles--
grin of mossy heart



your wet shirt against my chest
--hot love--
thunderous winter-melt


we sink laughing,
numb in Spring's fluids--
our voices drown


papaya lunch--
a tropic fruit
and i am home



sweaty backpack--
two beloved women hike,
my heart weightless


cliff-jumpers--
green from nostalgia,
i hit bottomless


cameras first,
avert canopy surprise--
Spring screen


black-backed iridesce--
warm beetle slips
in and out of scree



barefoot in the stream,
our hands and voices smooth--
ankle sprain



Spring paths--
a parent's visit
breathes new life

my womb-maker
from another life--
ageless comfort


her haiku eyes--
water shining sun green
bloom here again
*




\|/
Inflorescence: a characteristic arrangement of flowers on a stem; a flower cluster. a flowering.
Misogi: Shinto purification ritual involving standing under a waterfall.
Corymb: a broad, flat-topped cluster of flowers in which the outer flower stalks are long and those toward the center progressively shorter.
vircapio gale Nov 2012
in winter haste
          shorts fall to dusty floor --
   sunny goosebumps
vircapio gale Sep 2012
taking shots
in the forest -- reeling
from the impact
vircapio gale Nov 2015
gull at sunset --
streak of pink
across a sickle moon.






'
gull at sunset --
pink breast between two wings,
white as missing moon.


gull at clear sunset --
silent heartbeat under down,
pink against the rays.


moonless sunset --
a gull's crescent wings
dip toward the skyline.

moonless sunset --
a gull's breast of down burns pink
between two pale wings.

moonless sunset --
crescent wings carry a gull's
pink breast through the blue.


clear autumn sunset --
blue sky, white wings and
a gull's hot pink breast.

clear blue sky at sunset --
a gull's pink breast
between two white, sickle wings.


gull at sunset --
clearly red, white and blue
mean more than freedom.

moonless sunset --
white crescent wings catch the sun,
pink gull held aloft.
vircapio gale Aug 2013
global wealth--
young slave's crusted mouth
no longer begs aloud
vircapio gale Oct 2012
painful urge to write
spifflicates want of reading --
words rephrasing world
vircapio gale Sep 2012
bark rubs
on skin in quiet wood--
mind grown still
vircapio gale Sep 2012
horizon cracks--
              the storm heats one ear while
              putting on lip balm
vircapio gale Oct 2012
sharing milk,
  fellow inpatients
    drink in sun
vircapio gale Oct 2012
'
his vacuum free hand
tidies wires in a storm--
surge protector wife!













.
wrapping dumplings in
bamboo leaves, with one finger
she tidies her hair

(Bashō 1644 - 1694)
vircapio gale Oct 2015
compassion, goodness
found in everyone we know--
and don't know.
vircapio gale Nov 2012
red cheeks heat cold tears--
open heart psychology
bloodlets winter cheer
vircapio gale Sep 2012
our thievery done,
you steal my ****** prize--
gems bouncing on moss
vircapio gale Oct 2015
sharing all seasons -
international home of
earthling family.

this is life lost -
deaths of brothers and sisters
cut me, raging tears

rage of tears at dawn
--
how are you?
my beloved strangers...
earthlinghood revised,
blogospheric species-hope.

first day
adless surfing -
wet my pants.
the old concentration back,
i breathe relieving sighs.

infotainment age -
authentic journalism
revised and found

#riseupoctober -
"The Souls of Black Folk," asks Du Bois,
do you have a *soul
?

my white-washed education
didn't give me one; love did.

Trent Lott's lot:
a segregationist, blogged
into mississippi's mud.

Coltrane's music
fire in my chest, supreme
love-train
of Cornel West

Chimamanda sings
inclusion and awareness -
what do you sing?

untimely autumn
frost, grinding into duff
a bigot's words.







.
reflecting on youtube search for Cornel West and riseupoctober stopmassincarceration movements
vircapio gale Oct 2012
wheelchair all day --
electro-shock treatment
stopped his lewd advances
vircapio gale Sep 2012
windows shutting down . . .
impatient feet pique
cat on summer screens
vircapio gale Jan 28
my kindness has now been commodified
whereas before it triggered hate
--seen as weakness, as cruelty's plaything--
still, i saturate to what extent i can
my daily happy-dance with honest friendship,
compassion's ease, delight and pet-store equipoise.
yet my sincerity is sloganed, emptied of its worth:
trained to say 'rewards program' in stead of 'membership, account';
'guests' in stead of 'customers'
'team-players' in stead of 'employees'
'long-term relationships' as first and foremost mission statement's goal--
slither-scripted to promote a highest bottom line
as language euphemizes baby mice as 'pinkies,
fuzzies, hoppers': 'feeders' for a petted multitude
of scaly, fang-ed maws.

pre-thanksgiving christmas-trees
on either side of automatic double-doors--
styro-snowflakes hung
by wrapping-papered end-cap shelves on sale
to swipe our plastics to a higher debt--
to tinsel out the shame of maybe giving less?
reminding 'gift-time soon' and 'this could be a gift'
to ward off never having given childhood its due?
or of being less than cheerful
at incessant jingled tunes?

november fifth--decorations up;
guy fawkes night of trick-or-treater-candies
tweeting hallowed flu-shots
as my manager in elf-cap-antlers squeals in glee:
says she starts promoting christmas back in august.
i tell her that's appropriate!
given jesus was perhaps born in august.
says she didn't memorize the bible.
i tell her that part was left out anyway--
i don't mention the holiday's titular meaning;
or the waiting gnostic manger,
royal transhistoric camels,
mary on her donkey, joseph's wind-blown face
las posadas... the loneliness of exile
O mary... in her starlit tears of unknown pain and joy--
the unremitting love for barnfloor bodyheat,
todos santos
nonhominin humanity...
earthling rights day
a stranger's kindnesses
of yule-tide warmth and evergreen,
solstice-fulcrum festivals of lights
veteran's day's existential loss
and bureaucratic selfhoods shelved;
gurpurb at a gurdwara
the martyrdom of guru tegh bahadur
the garifuna settlement day
the tazaungdaing festival
fasting over christian as well as buddhist lent
the five days of deepawali, diwali:
bodhi day
découverte d'haïti and vertières
jamhuri day
chalica
zamenhof day
sadeh
pancha ganapati
malkh
soyal
mithras day
osiris, adonis and dionysus day (all dec. 25th)
humanlight
--republic day! national day! and proclamation day!
in the maldives, brazil, northern cyprus, chad, yugoslavia;
in the central african republic, burkina faso, kenya, malta, kazakhstan, niger, south sudan...
chahrshanbeh soori
modraniht
the dongzhì festival
the saturnalia of pagans (lit. "country dwellers"; "those of the heath")
dies natalis solis invicti
newtonmas
kwanzaa
watch night
hanukkah
boxing day
malanka
the day of goodwill
wren's day
quaid-e-azam's day
yeni il
guru govind singh jayanti
international solidarity day of azerbaijanis
fête du vodoun
hogmanay
Iemanjá
darwin day
milad-un-nabi
lohri
pesach
chocolate-egg-laying fertile-bunny-day-- or ishtar day
butter week, crepe week, or cheesefare week-- or maslenitsa
happy holidays to all in particular

on November 24th, 1675, "Guru Tegh Bahadar, the ninth Sikh Guru undertook the supreme sacrifice for the protection of the most fundamental of human rights - the right of a person to freely practice his or her religion without interference or hindrance."

http://www.sikhiwiki.org/index.php/Martyrdom_of_Guru_Tegh_Bahadur
vircapio gale Oct 2015
i have holidays off at my new job.
no vacation for a year
or insurance
for six months.
i think
the work is fulfilling.
but if i get hurt, it'll be my fault, according to company policy.
i mean, i make it fulfilling
--to deal with the continuous,
hateful
and aggressive abjection--
punctuated
by climaxes
of
celebratory
prejudice.
political correctness  or explicit signs of empathy
are seen as the enemy. as problems.
anything organized or tidy is
"****** up."
i mean, my boss told me the other day,
"...like if I call you a ***, and you happen to be one,
you could just sue me! People are so sensitive nowadays...
My wife calls me a chauvinist, but I say i'm just old-fashioned."
young girls we pass in our company vehicle are called,
"Pre-*****."
East Asia is called
"Wonton";
and stereotypes are considered truisms.
ethnic slurs are the norm.
**** is a common,everyday
source of humor:
maple trees are called "Raples";
grapes are called "'g'-Rapes"
and small houses are called "****-Shacks."
a large kiln oven is called a "Jew-Oven."
glorifications of violence are welcomed with a smile
and the N-word is spoken with gleeful abandon.
if something is fixed poorly, it's "******-rigged" . . .
...they say they're not racist,
but perpetuate hate speech like it's a responsibility.
how am i growing to enjoy the company of such people?
to see any aspect of value here whatsoever?
what the **** kind of coward am i?
to allow this to pass without immediate and uncompromising opposition...
i must be dead inside
to trust my safety to such people
i say
i want to ***** my heart
and show them
how wrong and terrifying,
how hurtful their words are...
how i burn, impaled on stakes with each pronunciation of the word, "******."
rage shakes me awake at night
...though less and less...
as i understand the hate and fear,
the pain these men have lived with and seem unable to restrain
from spilling out;
as i begin to understand their conditioning
the origins of this inexcusable, ancient behavior
(or as i too become somewhat desensitized i fear)

but if i can see the potential for change in these earthlings,
i will go on hoping,
live happily amid hate
measuring with wide eyes the subtle shiftings
holding the intention of healing
of understanding
of presenting alternatives
of tolerance
compassion
and honest truths of self suffering
of other suffering
of self healing
and other healing
of self love
and other love
vircapio gale Sep 2015
slowly  carefully
as i might an ancient diary
still full of young dreams
and even  perhaps
the salt of young love

it hurts
to carry adolescent obstacles
given my age
and all those hateful skeptics
it hurts how they gleefully profane

yet settled dust is yet dust
i sit willing to love
amid my dust
i sit in ever deeper vasts of love
in existential sacrum wag
kindled crown and fullness breath of all the scents of varied forms of love

lighthouse toes inspire seas ancestors swam
lyric feet to message myth of travels won
my calves and shins  knees and thighs
  crawling climbing walking running jumping kicking at the start
physiologies of courage ****** ahead
as future unmade moulds invite
caress the bodied length intent provides

singing fingers scale my world in chords of gliding love
tips of arcing sensate dawns
diverse as nightsky suns

my palms divine an ever giving gift
no futures could unveil--
the toucher's touching touched
aligning novel insights  wordless as the womb of time:
perhaps a symbol flare could squint
and grant a vision of horizon's end--
another pleasure game
a bonsai love to soften age
another twisting meditation's emptiness in form
as motion stillness spaces words
to perfect pitches  tempos   sound
though all of which will never meet
and never meeting meet
as one
vircapio gale Aug 2012
ok, so this is the upswell
of wheeling free without wheels--
you taste the unknown on the wind
and endless vigor vibrates in your bones.

sidewalks, dumpsters, fields for beds,
star-gaze drowsy thinkings, underfed

but overzealous of an openness we'd never seen, we'd never see again! the planet turning magical in unexpected
ways of wanderjest--
consummate rest of freedom undenied, joyful celebrants of every day!

the strangers sudden friends stop
to gather in the journey up 'til then--
tales of kindness or of danger
sharing in some facet part

integral, shining, random and forgot--
we each diverge in thanks
or so it's been with me
despite mass fear of ****** sprees
we help each other's spirit's free

some begin and end with sore feet soothed,
the destination moved;
others with a steath-pipe harshly clean:
ember throat-smack numbs the breath
and giddy paranoia settles in
as 'the white house' sailing by perverse
-ly urban planning plotted bums who smile missing ob
-ligatory chili dogs in crowded bl
-are full to frighten morning parking lot we pitched
our tent and woke to soaking feet and sleeping bags submerged in runoff corner-lake

another time we simply waited at a truck stop,
piles of the rigs just running ready there
and one for us, he said he'd bring us north,
and more, he told us of his brothels,
his debt-collecting days, the cokehead legs he shot
for honesty, he said, and sang us poems (he wrote)
of foreign women loved, some with pictures,
pickled eggs and cooler-hotdogs stale,
my first menthol cigarette: inhale and fall
into an understanding outlaws have
of skipping all the weigh-stations, of
friendship gleaned by chance, ephemerality
in strength of truth to last:
he took our picture on the exit ramp,
gave us hugs and left us waiting there,
more than just an ex-**** trucker,
hired gun for pushing coke, but a human
sentimental in a context undefined
like justice in the sense of kindness to rewind

the rain... a joyful merciless accord
of being in the storm of open-ended
waywards torn in being home and on the road
life untenable in farther reaches worn of ages never understood

but standing in a trailer whipped with highway gusts of water-gratitude
though slipping in the bouncing hay and horse manure fertileness
we joke eternal swinging backpacks soaked and knocking spin on balance play

meeting lovers simply known as such
for nights or only one, talking into dawn
at random campus dormroom sheltering
when sober, high, tempted into impulse act
afraid or pleasant easy unknown facts
just passing by she offered for the night
his first intoxicant beyond the ***
surrounded puffing passing groaning
in the rooms above below i'm listening
smirking at the undeserving joy i swallow in her eager kiss
to throb the floating line of destiny in endless acts of freedom's light

though a ride can be a head-ache too...
piled beer cans on the floor,
clanking with each swerving,
the driver even stopping for a ****,
thankful? to be riding, not walking,
but observing when we're there, the ground, this time, i bend to kiss

Sam was the most generous:
he brought me to his home, his father took me sailing, swimming with the family
serving food on lakehouse dock and later
reading with the kids, dinner bonding
then such sleeping    deep    peace
and in the morning, after breakfast
on my way with lunchbag tastes of kindness never lost

there are many more
tucked away in word-gifts, also
blueberries to pick along the roadside, more
than i'd ever seen or thought to see
cows to sleep by, horses randy for an audience to claim the pasture for

the offer is a type of gift you question to refuse,
not to lose your wits
some are quiet, kind,
most are liberal in ways they couldn't ever elsewhere be:
snapshot saints in momentary boons of spontaneity and love.
some cross lines.
so, grateful i'm ok, but never worried otherwise. i run the 'risk' it's called,
and run it still: i ask the random for assistance,
in upturned eyes discern the weather
as in ancient times the host and guest stood cultural across
in making kin of unnamed walking in,
gifting company for company along the way
trusting always in the limned choices traveled, with a existential grin
vircapio gale Oct 2012
"polite for a yankee"

making stop sign bullet holes

we start the massive pump churning into irrigated watermelon rows

headlight round a shadow bend in nightline tree bulk

sleep with empty cans beside the ashtray couch on matted ****
vircapio gale Jan 26
sundogs past the vale --
late Spring's changing wind atop
the same, sturdy tent


bald mountain rains--
the worms retreat
with every step



'

sunset river-bat~
i stand deaf on the loud shore,
with star and crescent moon


'

Spring-summer fronts ~
tornado siren, trains;
owls on the edge


the French Broad's roar
doesn't drown the bass across--
campsites decay

pristine pristineness~
comparing filth with (to less) filth,
unnatural taste

'
individual--
tree, then mycelial port,
ants, woodpecker feast.
earth, life, openness;
a walking-staff's thud.

~


water's tone
over three leaves~
a steady stream



~

mountain spring of Spring--
a higher note is struck
in flowing free

shady water source--
salamander audience
of fullness' ease

mountain nooks in bloom--
univied cradles pause,
contact deeper breath

~

almost summer--
a level ridge
stretches our backs

~
growls in the Spring dark--
a large rodent returns home
to unwelcome guests.



Spring lushness--
mountain sunrays glide north
as we climb




woodpecker echoes ~
the empty forest vibrates
my growing hunger


~

please feel free to form a tanka with any of these starting verses. perhaps renga will follow
vircapio gale Oct 2015
wishing all happiness
vircapio gale Feb 2013
given                                emerald veins
enfracture           sightful           caverns
of        this           pulmonary        gaze,
earthbeat        pericardium     of  whim
and mystic with a settled dew of ages--
some  heady  ancient   script     of    silk
still        gathers      fragile nourishment
and            struggle warmth     to drain
my        needless      thoughts   of flight,
center          span to dome         the air--
geodesy                                       of form
enframing                               emptiness
and                   crimson                   fates
to                                                  quench
vircapio gale Mar 2014
the Nephelaen mediatrix sings
fating an ambrosia synchrony of tones

she volves her telic tepals ripe:
areoles ensorcelled under alate nomes

she heralds petrichoric quench
with nova womb
to subtend violet ray

in stellar bloom, noema web:
sensate fontanels
in spite of dessication's wrench
are concresced atmospheric balms
of evanescent nervure, calyces
displayed to sky-crossed home,
unpillared and ovoid







.
'the nephelai (or Nephelae)
were the Okeanid nymphs of clouds and rain who rose up from the earth-encircling river Okeanos bearing water to the heavens' ( theoi.com ).
"The Nephelean Period"
is a perhaps outdated term used in solar or geologic timescales, to mark when solar nebulae emerge distinct from Giant Molecular Clouds. it ends when a proto-sun is formed.
mediatrix : a female mediator

volve : "consider" "roll about the mind"
telic: having an end or goal
tepal: contains both sepals and petals of a flower
areoles: (on cacti) are clearly visible bumps out of which grow clusters of spines, buds and branches
ensorcell: to bring under a spell
alate: winged
nome (nomos), in Greek music, originally ‘tune’, ‘melody’; the word was applied especially to a type of melody invented, it was said, by Terpander as a setting for texts taken from epic poetry, which could be played on the flute or on the lyre.

petrichor: the scent after long awaited rain, or the oil released after a drought's end
noema: an object of consciousness
concresce: to grow together
calyx: bot. the outermost group of floral parts, the sepals; anat. zool., a cuplike part.
ovoid: egg-shaped

my apologies for the obscure words. it's a vice and a penchant i'm learning to come to terms with. any thoughts are appreciated
vircapio gale Oct 2015
again your words garner tears
i am fought from within
between wretched smiles aching with the shame of words i've shared
listened to, copied, written, "shared"
and yet never truly shared

those doors are gone: i have shared
and one has listened, shining love as hot to bear as sun...
refracted in my tears the warmth
is as a solar flare of unexpected love--
distrusts flung of self for undeserving care,
i waver-wallow, sing another cracking grasp,
slurp my sniffle-ramen soup to comfort ten-year wounds
all open now, shining, wincing in the sun.

i would bare my bones, it seems,
in urgent need to stamp the world an honest love.

what have i waited for? better words to come and scare us into final sum?
a final balance done, as if a math could send us there?

where? where has the daylight gone and come?
how old this starlight sinking from
i try to laugh and fail,

giving fame another final finger-flipping off
as that one girl said once, long forgotten, "cradling
her last fledgling flying ****,
and kissing it on to fated final flight"

yes. discovered now by one, i heal in single sun
i beg from those in shade or hurting from my blindest words a balm
a balm of knowing deep i seek to undiscover harm...
a balm of knowing deep the wholesome love of self that overflows to all...
Mokume told me, "love them" as i struggled with their hate,
he asked my love as to her love for me,
he asked me of my love i held for her--and which was more,
the love of self or love of her
and so i wavered in the meanings love has come to bear
while he taught stridently the meaning of Yoruba masks,
the bowl atop the symbol-studded head
the brims so overfull they shower all who look,
or dare to touch its bursting river-majesty
in collaboration with st64 and Third Eye Candy
vircapio gale Oct 2015
i am not a man
--conventionally, one considers me as one;
for many purposes
i am a man--
at long last as a 'compliment'
; as a stoic ideal
; or as pejorative
; as body.
but i am not conventional:
i am not a man
vircapio gale Oct 2013
a confessional screen
chambered in opaques
                        the pearly gates would sport
checkers sovereignty with grime
between myself
               and the other side of this poem

another acolyte had founted
             from our species-widened narthex-maw
                              the answer to the test
                                    the answer i have tested since
despite the veto of a roshi's sleeve

while adults justify in frowns and threats
commandment-etched
i am a child still
           aghast at drawing lines in sand to mark the living
                                           from the soon to die

one i knew who drew such lines                                  
             for whom a line was drawn to mark himself as well
not just in votes and homeland hate-speech
you see
he crossed the line
                        no unadulterated childhood can cross

he shot  his  own  face
                              or at least his face was shot
                when he was found
who can read the final lonely moments of another
                                                 when mistakes are easier than ownmost acts ?

bombing bullies politicking death
                 can sanctify the safe
unpunctuated traps
                     dividing moods in swallows
pills
swilled with undigested fear
                                   of nozzled death
mercilessly sudden





.
narthex:
1. A portico or lobby of an early Christian or Byzantine church or basilica, originally separated from the nave by a railing or screen. 2. An entrance hall leading to the nave of a church.
roshi:
The spiritual leader of a group of Zen Buddhists.

working notes:
a tone in flux, a new eureka spoken for an ancient crowd

a guru's overbearing beneficence
the roshi's cryptic dismissal
adult scorn of immaturity

sanctified trapping of division

infantilist projectionism
vircapio gale Nov 2012
fem in isms,
i imagine Sapphic eyes:
bad *** advert coruscates elite
fairness sensing slavish blind
in gestate calm affirm
in genders More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
O harsh judgement foiled,
as a foil, as unknown truth
foil-doubles in the brow,
abject symmetry to systemize
a fertile lack of sterile barrenness,
i am a mediatrix rend,
nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside
from transemotion's ground swells
demeaning to be understood.
i celebrate and face the same
to be what paperwork tests being
normal being, freely chosen
atom each belonging moves
an asterisk of paths
of mutate art of nature social darwin maze.
i imagine Sapphic eyes,
ginko soft they pile up all cobble
memories themselves concretely
cloistered  fame
spray of salty waves,
macho screams symbol
for dismissal ease
for tearing at an inner unsaid war
with lists offense of proper taste
to what posterity intends
an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds.
i imagine Sapphic eyes
past
debauched
meanderings
where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular
and reliable escapisms curl the lips
of maleness found
here and there  smile  sneer love
i imagine Sapphic eyes
linguistic pirouettes
congest that wisdom nonetheless
the moment passed  on to a
feigning truth in pretty rhyme
ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine
vernacular chimes peter in
to juggle perspectival paradox,
redichotomize the twilight idols,
resolve the conflict like a dawn
Aurora,
i imagine Sapphic eyes
running plastic with Alaskan wolves,
toga floats to snow
to let us see the purest fairness form
a ****** circle,
Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave,
Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now
with Wollstonecraft revered
in liberation's fount
families held exemplar gaze of
Taylor, ******, Cady,
Anthony resanctified
to vote entitlement's
empathic origins, waxen mold
of nascent categories,
narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew
the manifest evolve in true unknowns
vircapio gale May 2013
the bomb does not explode. there,
only aftermath is real like amputations
thoughts are cutting through my flesh
from years ago. when that marine
i went to high school with told us
of his tumor, the surgery he
couldn't pay for. the nuclear facility
he was stationed by. his bunk-mates,
their brains cut also, angry now
and as he loudly spoke beneath
his bandaged head we nodded, cut his
story out as perhaps true, not worth
looking into
vircapio gale Oct 2013
i might continue on with that trauma
i might subside.
violation carries with it sensate boons of empathy
blue sky overrun with thanks
arched-back breath

you're afraid to ask me
are your tears painful
but i spear your question with a surplus love
shouting joy
as if there weren't a plea
tremulously groaned
share with me

it isn't just release
sweet freedom laughing out of doors
you and she regaled in bursts
iridescent meaning
hung in curve of lock
nape and open palm
vircapio gale Oct 2015
sh
they said it sarcastically to twist the lump in a throat sideways
another throat
i won't whine about mine
it's in the beak of freedom
refracting azure skylight's promise into pain

bitter silence wins the immigration race
acceptance in the dark
i vacuum floors too deep for walls
or ceilings
or actual bars we could talk about
vircapio gale Mar 2013
so the ***** FDA could take a day off
not that that will will away
the shame of cash crop chousing
easy speaking tightrope swinging
prohibition saga
buzz without a buzz


11/4/2012
http://now.msn.com/marijuana-that-wont-get-you-high-cross-bred-by-israeli-scientists

J. Bird
Let it stay in Israel.

    Report
    Spam

Alexandria Sorensen
I still think the stuff should be legal for recreational use but this could be helpful to those people who want the effects of medical marijuana without the high.

      

Phulk
Trust a couple of scientists to reverse 30 years of good work.


Katy mvt
I think any drug that can give you the benefits without the side effects is great.


Musilini
Hard to believe there is any buzz about this.


wrightrich
it's called hemp it been around for hundred of years.what are these people drunk?

      

Sometimes449
Where's the fun in that?

RUSTY NUTTZ
SOUNDS LIKE WHAT WAS AVAILABLE IN THE 60S AND 70S COMPARED TO WHAT IS AVAILABLE NOW

kevin in pa
Well they can put a man on the moon I was sure it wasn't going to take long before scientists could extract only the good qualities from the marijuana plant.

        65    27
    Replies (0)

rockyjada
11 hours ago
avatar
WATCH OUT STONERS YOU MIGHT GET BURNT!!!!!!!!!


The new "high-free" Israeli version could also challenge the ban on medical uses of cannabis currently enforced in many countries.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-20189347
Next page