There’s so much about you,
That makes me feel refreshed.
It’s not the glint of fire in your hair,
Or the fire in your heart,
Or even the simmering warmth of-
Your homemade tea,
Or homemade verses.
It’s the general sensation of knowing
Someone like you exists-
A creature of compassion,
A creature beyond the realms of flesh.
You ignite me and inspire me,
You drive me further,
And so in writing this,
I acknowledge the fact that-
This small composition lacks
In displaying your true aura-
Your vibe, energy- semblance,
I just wanted to-
Press into your perception,
Just how radiant-
And how vital-
You are to-
This entity of an ecosystem,
This ever-changing atmosphere,
The rotation of winds-
This world, this life,
he could play a frakkin' minuet
with his hands, this dude,
with perfect pitch and key --
and birdcalls of a timeless cult.
he'd hangglided in volcano rainbows,
had meathook sex from rafters.
reciting Shakespeare, conjured instant goosebumps, tears --
towering heartwise, intellect vast
whatever roles he played at night to model for our soul
we ripped the roof from off my fathers house, sublime,
wearing attic soot in all our pores,
asbestos grin contracting into mycophile hopes
flirting with the passing birds
in leaves and pizza parlors,
tanned and buff, shingle tar on shoulders, nails,
iron hard for her and her and her
the beating sun-breath coughing under mask
each tack an instant echo for the breeze
to take direction from a symbol core
no symbol ever truly held..
refreshing airs to bleed away the vanity,
yet halfway on the ladder there
an interrupting brag, my father's fascia beams
report card scores as if a better world they made
in money pitted recess taxing hidden filth- -
Bach, to break up pride with existential high
new melodic rain to cover over thousands lost to sell,
handwind bard, aesthete
you turn me on with tales of your amazing wife
bareshirt in your unfinished house, lusting eaves,
backyard grasshoppers on the counter,
stoned as insect brains can be
to tilt their eyes with me at unreal fullness spectra-circle on a cloud
not possible the wholeness found
in wish fulfilling living roofs
of ecosystem awe and sunlamp bottles
here, and here,
under moss on backwoods skillion
or trussed on tree spread wide, open-hipped for skylove --
contentednesses missed the meaning now
of mother-art to birth anew the endless homes,
ecosophy's abundant cheer
laughter even in the nooks of dying nails
extemporaneous arcology of barefoot
ridgetop feardance raked in soffit shift
from gray to green
invulnerable vigor gained and gone
and grown again
from marginalia to universal veil
'happy evermore' no matter this or that
a swimming hole of naked sayings streamed,
inner wash of salt and sweat, an afterthought deluge
to challenge dormer crease-dive of a dogma drain
structured, learned pillage ivory still
though greensulated soon
My eyes are black holes
An ecosystem of decay
a habitat for shattered souls
My eyes are lifeless
Behind the wall, we are falling
Banging out our heads and hearts against doors off hinges
Against some mad buggers intuitions
In parlance of the street he's a dumpster-diver,
scavenger of non-losing wager or proposition tickets.
You'd see his fragile frame each night
walking the isles of the race and sports books,
a condor's aerial eye trained on the floor,
back visible only to casino surveillance cameras.
Seated atop a barstool at the back,
I watch him bend, examine and discard,
through the prism of my scotch glass.
Every food chain has its bottom-feeders,
he brings efficiency to the gambling ecosystem.
Likely not the life that you or I would chose,
but then he has no monthly credit card to pay.
Just now, I saw him straighten and smile,
a parlay ticket will pay for tonight's meal
with just enough left for a brown-bag.
He does not go uninvited to misfortune,
the streets tonight are lined with chance's down.
your deepest scars
lie in your brain
where i cannot kiss them
until you let me make-better
kit, you've trusted hands to pet you
and trotted into snares
more than once
and now there's a vast expanse of
"come on out now, you're safe from harm"
far as the eye can see
wide open green and golden this-is-really-good
but you're haunted by steel and teeth
throwing you to the ground
a pain memory that makes you bite
until the ecosystem i built cannot remember
how to make flowers.
let the earth i've grown need you
without fear of what anchors you
let the sky i've thrown adore you
without suspicion of why it's bothered to watch
little fox, let me cultivate this garden around us
because it's a good one
more beautiful with you
the deepest scars lie in your brain
where i cannot kiss them.
Let me make-better
because i'm made better
let me keep you, little fox
and i'll grow you flowers
the most beautiful you've ever seen
unto this little earth
gilded with trees
like the owl and the pussycat
my fox and me.
The body goes through changes.
The mind grows.
There is time spent knowing...
knowing about one's existence,
what love is,
what it isn't.
With feet firmly planted on the ground,
it becomes frightful to think of being beneath it.
Food for the Earth, we are.
We populate our planet,
and we have come far.
We've documented man's evolution.
However, we forget about the gift we are given.
Spinning on an axis.
We put ego over eco.
Entomology, of sorts.
Maybe Darwin was right.
Destroying the ecosystem,
we ravage the land.
We take what we want,
because we are man.
It starts with one tree,
one thing leads to another.
Then the whole fucking forest,
Mother Nature, we love her.
She makes us money,
so we continue to rape her.
We take the land, her body,
and turn it to paper.
And her blood, her rich blood,
we drill deep, to the core.
No matter how much we get,
we always go back for more.
We harvest her organs,
with our metal machines.
We take what we want,
not what we need.
We are the men,
destroying our ecosystem.
We are tyrants,
but we can't live without Mother Nature.
She is so beautiful,
full of life,
she has so much to give.
But we think that means to take,
until she's raped,
till she dies.
But although we bound her,
she will always be stronger,
then you and me.
We are the harvesters.