Once a year its champagne!
I feel calm passionate and teary.
It gets my head to Paris
  As life is broken down goes out
in transition or revelation,
there's a greàter darkness then the one we inadvertently fight,
the darkness of the soul
that has lost its way.
I was chosen by great sages crossing paths the sting of my blindfold lingers noone sees hope or their future, or where it leads we know only that it's bought in pain and sacrifice.
Letting go what I loved the most.
was eternal loss, having
no reparation, neither in time,
nor in eternity.
My love river is truth it's mouth is
cosmic creation.
He measured sensuality
secretively, and in shadows 
he showed me feathers of half
a man syllhuette of him,
and feels guilty I just fill in blanks,
why smack a devolving face?
And what the heck!
I first measure people in trust.
then love, as true love is rare.
Trust tells love where to roam.
Love can't be made perfect
in distrust nor fear of rivals.
When I give my heart I do,
When I share my dreams too.
I do not drown in midnight
   dew not retreat;
but I won't take sand in my eyes.
After the loving I go from rags
to riches in his love or shine
to wiser horizons..
~~~~~~~~~
Mr and Mrs Andrews.
At Karijinbba

A Man In Search of His Style

It so happens to be June.
It so happens that the picture window,
Frames a contented, bay lit, full moon.

Searched for an answer lifelong,
A devolving, lilting song refrain:
Man what is your tune,
What's your style, finally?

Examined so many rooms,
Tried out different beds,
Jumbled now, assorted, some sordid,
Some long winded, florid,
Some cursive, cursory and accursed,
Some so bitter-filled I shared them not
Lest I infect you, a sin in F major...

Love poems galore, and yet to come,
Many more.

Some seriously desperate suicidal,
Some ditty, even a mite witty,
Some eurythmic, most freely versed,
Rhyming is where you start,
Free verse when you're all grownup,
But all this delay, begs the question,
What's your style, conclusively?

Con-cluded, cannot be all things,
Took the ships conn to dissolve the occluded,
Find the truest course of my abilities,
At Port Serenity,
I arrived.

I write what I see.

A head lifted from pillow,
A one-second-long act of inspiration~duration
Becomes in moments,
A fully formed poetic inclination~curation.

Literally my eyes see words awaiting, coordinating,
Poems flying by, needing plucking,
How a child eats his morning cereal,
His rituals, informing of the man yet to be,
How our bodies lay, hair unbrushed,
Naturally tying us into a conjoined knot.

T'is the mundane, the profane of every action,
Makes my lips move, personalized prayers framing.

Perhaps this is a condemnation of sorts,
Ordinary things might bake
ordinary poem cakes,
Residue of an ordinary man,
An ordinary poet makes.

So be it, tomorrow is a farther day, when
My vocabulary may be a word greater, lesser,
But knowing now that the
Spring's source so topical,
Fills a well so deep, so close nearby,
I rejoice, mineral mental springs,
waters of inspiration, plentiful.

No matter that plain words are my ordinary tools,
With them I shall scribe the small,
Cherish the little, grab the middle,
Simplicity my golden rule,
Write they say, about what you know best,
Surely in the diurnal motions,
The arc of daily commotion,
Do we not all excel?

For this, if be,
my gift meager,
I, on blended knee,
freely embrace eager,
Promising you that the
best of our lives ordinar,
Together, we shall celebrate,
Fully, and most fair

June 15th, 2013

Pain reminds me I'm alive

Wish it would just let me die

Head spins violent ***** spouting

Evil eye pressure builds up pounding

Cracks streak my face from capillary fractures

I choke on three day old eggs and curdled milk

My teeth devolving in stomach acid

As bitter and stringent as anything I can think of

Still not done *******

Hemorrhoid blood dripping sticky

Toilet seat gripping

Not to mention the bathtub

Full of ***** needing washed out

At least my hair is clean...

hall pacers dominate the morning
sandle feet shuffle back and forth
eyes cast down travel the floor seeking the droppings
of the pacer before
the riches are in the mind
baubles of plastic and paint
the remains form a graveyard
bone thin white shards baking in an
imaginary summer sun
the unshaven huddle in the corner
watching with avid eyes
watching for the silence that follows
like a shadow... like a sad memory
weaving rhyme spoken at first attempt
he stands perfectly still in the midst of
all this random wandering
staring out into the distance of his mind
eye on the devolving thoughts
of her turning to go
turning to go
to go
go

No sound nothing, almost like before birth, before realization of life itself. In seconds I felt the pressure condense on my back and in an intense pain as  I hit the rocky shore.
My vision blurred by the blinding life giver. My ears  are filled with screeches, squeals and other peculiar unheard  sounds.
I find my self surrounded by large oval shaped rocks and lakes seething with life of all forms.
beyond this rock filled world I see the familiar blue from which I belong.
The life giver attacks me with such wrath that the cooling water sizzles from my body, cooking me as if for a treat for some larger being. I scurry for shade under a near by rock. Under the shade I could feel a cooling breeze sweep over me. As  I crawl further and further under the rock I find myself being slowly in a known feeling, the chilled waters make me feel like I am home.
Out of exhaustion I collapse and stay unable to move for for what feels like a life time. I let the water wash over me, becoming part of the landscape devolving to a rock.
Until instinct wafts a smell so enticing, so magnificent that my claws move automatically, searching for a taste of heaven.
Dodging between looming boulders, sniffing around as my blood hound instinct kicks in.
I front of me I find this large succulent piece of meat. I begin to feast recognizing the texture and taste as algae and salmon.
My stomach satisfied with all my nutrients rein-burst my body begins to strengthen bursting energy in me outward a feeling of a fight still within me.  
I crawled from rock to rock looking for my next meal. Diving in and out of pools fighting off others for meals and shelter feeling invincible in a world where I am king.
As the life giver to swelter slowly ******* all the surrounding watering holes dry. I look for shelter under a rock near the cliffs at the end  of this world.
I lay there, peaceful undisturbed almost sinking into my dreams.
All at once the rocks begin to shake rippling the water around me. the large rock I lay under begin to levitate and then lands a distance away.
Shocked and scared, pleading with the life giver and the familiar blue that the worst is over, but I know I cursed myself as soon as I thought that I ruled this world.
Standing a hundred thousand times taller than I, was a horrifying, mysterious beast that surly owned these parts.
This beast lent down and picked me up with its disproportionately small tentacles. It holds me up to its odd fleshy face and I think please let my death be quick, but instead it just stares at me inspecting me, rubbing my shell as if to polish me as some prize. It starts rumbling creating large vibrations down my body like it was trying to converse with me.
As a last and futile attempt, I strike at its flesh but its soft flesh is impervious to my hardest crunch. Having crushed snails shells with less, I realize I am doomed to what ever fate this unusual demon has in-store.
It brings me across the entire land in seconds like a flying beasts I have admired from above, This one used two long tentacles to jump from rock to rock.
It brings me over to a gathering of its species but to my horror the one holding me was the smallest of this gathering. It holds me up to its companions like an offering, they investigate me, rubbing me again but this time almost taunting me to snap at them, I try and fail.
They begin rumbling like earthquakes.
This is the end but again spares me for now and places me in a lake with a small amount of algae to eat. I stay there as I can see it watching me from a distance. Is it trying to fatten me before it eats me?
Am I part of some sort of cruel sport? Or a horrible experiment?
I stay there as this thing occasionally takes me out and focused its sights on me and vibrates waves from air from a hole in his face, then places me back in the water.
It starts bring other creatures back, other ***** like it was collecting us. We stay there too terrified to speak to one another, too baffled to know what we could say. Eventually it begins to take the other ***** out I cannot see where he puts them or more petrifying what he does with them.
I am left alone in this lake but I can still hear them in the distance pulsating the ground and water. Until silence, I can no longer see the shadowing figures, feel the shaking. All I can hear is the familiar blue whispering to me "you are safe".
I crawl out of the lake slowly to find my rock land being eaten by my friend the familiar blue and I understand its call, it is coming for me.
As it comes closer I too walk forward meeting it and as A wave crashes over me, sweeping me from the solid ground and tossing me into its warming body.
I think to myself, I am free.

“when down dreaming ups” (Pradip)*/

a mysterious phrasing sent,
the meaning devolving, beyond the obvious,
but slow like, as the mind turns and tastes
these words in different places, ways

when I lay me down to keep,
the dreaming up-ramping, the poems,
don’t know of absent muses, inspiratory lacking,
tongue tied eyes, all banished from the dream world,
where the poems come more than regular,
uninhibited and restless,
begging to be easy birthed,
oh please, oh please!

when down we lay,
up tempo do the brain’s creation ports
turn fiery red, agitated, masses of
tired, poor poems, yearning to be free
disembark all seeking a touchstone statue
to set them free to liberty

my speaking eyelids rapid typing,
placing whole writings in cracks in
the wailing wall, on my own temple mount,
where Hindi letters become stick figures
dancing praises to the lord and stars and
crescendo crescents interlock their tips,
until one dream complete is downloaded
to moistened, ready lips, for I am up, up,

from my down dreaming





10/20/19  8:54am

I am full of dichotomies
The perfect child
Who hates herself
The brilliant girl
Who wants to destroy her mind
The protected, cared for
Craving reckless liberation
The benevolent and peaceful
Wanting to hurt herself
The counseled and medicated
Devolving
Rich with conflict
Full of unexplained pain
Mourning the loss of her simple, pure soul
Wanting to drown in anything
Pain, grief, alcohol, water
But never able to
Because the good is fighting
But I don't want to let it win