There was  a dark angel
waving me down
a pathway to Hell
but then I realized
the dark was light
Hell was Heaven
and everything was fine

I was just standing on my head.

frog headstand
on a thawing pond--
bubbles gurgle up














/
.

I have never seen such a star before!

It shines
by and to
the sides of my eyes
but only until I’d look up
to see it Fully

It has never been there maybe!

or is it its nature to just disappear
when
and because I look up ?

or are we
playing a game of
kika boo
to test
a rhyming faith?

which could
become a melody
to the lines of darkness
uncloaking us

once or thrice
does not seem matter
to the form of my observation

sheltering in a multicolored ice

Catch this subtle point of luminosity
Now ! - If you can

and once you have it
Set it free
or Stay there
as if meditating on headstand
and clear your mind

before night diffuses into light
and shines through a crystal
with a hidden star inside

I cannot prove If eyes are not be made of its
material
and only a deluded mind  -Alas !
questions

such useless
doubt of difference
of the other
by the other
about the other

And the other
always and only
drowning
in the corridors of beliefs
and thought-constructs

but
Is it not pointless
Trying to catch
a star
Camouflaged
in daylight ?
...
and sometimes recklessly
at the tip of my nose
makes me giggle just
as if a **** tickle
at a mystic corner
on a lover’s lip
longing for its kiss variant

then
I look down again
Tired of the silly mind game
Just to feel it by my side
A sweet friend
A sweet love
Made of my trust
Only appears
to the side of my eyes
So what!
A needle tip sized glitter
sourceless
Living only
in the reflection of the reflection
of a night sky
Shining on my window
behind which I hide now

I never felt ok
I never felt not ok
I found a way

I swam backwards, against the grain and granted my pain the grace to keep me sane while feeling so outside my brain that novocaine and Kurt Cobaine could barely find the vein of comfortably numb I need to stay inside my lane

Like Bane I was born in the dark and somehow I found a spark, the light at the end of the tunnel if the tunnel was more like a pit
It’s amazing how much perspective matters when you’re inside of it
The gravity overwhelms me when I’m at the helm, but sometimes I can get my feet in the air and my head on the ground and vertical seems a little more horizontal this time around
Perhaps that’s the trick
A trick of the light
A way to finally fight
A way to come undone from holding so **** tight

Let loose but still in boundaries, that’s what I always had to do because true freedom confounds me
I don’t know what to do when I feel so blue that even pure O2 couldn’t bring back a normal hue
Suffocating and ice skating cold as ice maybe that’s why 11 minutes won’t suffice, I’m the ice man with my ice plan maybe a cold bath will clean the blood from my hands
I can’t stand a headstand ‘cause the feeling of being free has always escaped me, locked in the trunk like Stan, and surrender sounds so sweet until I feel the pain that hides behind the sweet release
How much pain have I endured and how many people have I cured without ever helping myself
Too many to be sure
Healer heal thyself but I’m the biggest hypocrite on the shelf
Mental health or mental wealth I never know I just show myself the way of zen and keep on diving in
Sometimes it’s healing that sends me reeling, sometimes it’s joy that transcends feeling
Keeling over from either I choose neither, I want to be numb but something inside me tells me that’s dumb, don’t succumb, don’t just *** but be the sum of all the pain and like the rain fall back to earth find rebirth and recycle through the trees and the clouds no longer shrouds but part of being pure bright seeing without fleeing perfect being without me-ing am I leaping to conclusions or transcending my delusions I don’t know I’m just here spitting typing fire words for myself in thirds

Me myself and I
I always wonder why
Myself and Me can’t get on the same team but who is the wonderer when my attention wanders
One under the other I discover it’s a self collapsing doll, turtles all the way down after all
Stop and stall when I will but I still find a thrill from the jagged little pill of self-knowledge that I hate to acknowledge
I get to the ledge and say no way, not today, I can’t take the leap I’m too afraid
That’s why I stayed, alone in the dark for so long
Trapped in the pit of my despair
No one there
Maybe they were but I didn’t let them in
I didn’t let them see my sin I sent them away and prayed that someone without judgment might one day help me see the gray
I don’t know how else to convey that this black and white mentality is insanity and calamity and the only thing that ever made sense to me
I want to change, I want to be the man that I sometimes can see
But sometimes he is blurry for the tears
Blurrier still for all my fears
Blurrier yet again for all the years
So many that I let slip by and now I finally find the strength to try

To be the light at the end of the tunnel, the top of the pit
To be the hole and the funnel, gas finally lit
An explosion that propels me onward and upward
I am not throwing away my shot
I will not run away and hide
Finding a reason for these tears I’ve cried
Pit or tunnel, I’m no longer inside
One final thought for me to confide:
Aiming toward the sky is the best thing that I’ve ever tried

The computer built by savages
held a fake Hard Drive made by Scottish Magpies
all external with no verification
whilst a Mainframe Computer is the real deal
the savages took their dud and market it militantly

Simpletons galore brought Scottish Magpies computer
in glaring ignorance they proclaimed keyboard at the ready
load in this disc and watch the show
we are now Gamers with total control
here's the operating Manual but its written in Advanced Braille

oh what a joke to see Barbarians play with dud triggers
this doesn't appear to be working says a semi-barbarian
don't be silly says Scottish Magpies, its working but its all invisible
just make sure you do a headstand when you access the keys
and know it NLP, that's Natural Language Processing
so come to us and we tell you what to say and do

A Mainframe computer is the real deal
Sophisticated, it uses a mainframe because only big iron provides
the processing power to support the many functions  required in a trained informed intelligent mind like factual support
clear and logical processing, while able to monitor signs of fraud,
like crooks, Barbarians and Scottish Magpies in elaborate frauds
as well as perform analytics in real time, and more—and all simultaneously.

This is not a Computer with a one word reference trigger
or visual perceptions programming for the dummies
Don't bother tell that to the Simpletons, its all above their heads
Don't shatter their dreams, they have been told they have Power
just leave them in their Kindergarten playground

I am my cats pet
I am trained to be the best
fish chef...
I can toss fresh salmon in the air
with a single flip without a care
with one hand in downward dog
in a headstand while on a log
I can entertain as I coo her name
acting goofy with no shame
while her green eyes say, "You're so lame."
The bubble message just above her head?
 Oh, Hell- No! Not this again!
I really need something new to read. The books you own
aren't up to speed.
Btw, I've read every issue of Film News
Seriously. If I could sing right now?
"I'd sing the blues!
Okay. Okay. I get it now. You're a vegetarian
you don't eat fish, and you don't eat cow.
Check the labels. Check them twice.
You don't eat face.
You don't eat mice.
I'm so happy to be your pet.
Look how pretty your table's set!

i wanna roll her over
onto her knees
lick kiss **** drink her everywheres up
until she twitches real. hard.
and laughs that ohmyfuckinggodihavezerowords laugh

and then put it in
slow at first
then pound her till the coffee mug falls from the headstand and breaks
sense it swelling up and
glitch
inside her
with my eyes wide meeting hers
i will die again and again and again till i am dead

Join us!
Join us!
We think you'll like our mission!
We're looking for new members
in the sad girl coalition!
We prefer girls with anxiety
and an affinity for plants.
Feminist views a must,
and a willingness to dance.
Gear needed to fit in here:
a rescue cat, a hammock,
an emotionally damaged cactus,
yoga, knitting, hula hooping,
or some other quirk you practice.
Duties are quite simple;
Defend your girls in online rants
about the current state of the nation.
Comment, "love the yoga pants!"
when a sister nails a headstand.
Click love instead of like
when a member shares the anthem
and keep adding to the ranks
of the sad girl coalition!

what did i learn working at the hospital today?
don't do a headstand on a motorcycle
but don't worry
the daredevil kid who taught me this
will never do it again

The wheat of Elysia is let go's sway--that

drops Aphrodite to her knees.

Where she watches sight spread around

her head, winnowing golden dancers.

No more that they may--they are, about

the girl that's never to go.

Yet goes, in search of the longer way that

brings her out.

Who is heard coming as silence to

silence, which turns over the horizon.

Aphrodite's heart feels as if it's doing a

headstand, with upside-down birds

emptying the contents of the world.

Where she lie, other than the world--

as the perceptor of real space.

She has a craving that expecting

mothers couldn't eureka-mouth together.

Perhaps her most significant

beautification, beginning to see what's

seen in her.

As Aphrodite says to herself: die a

moment, spring forward--after flowers.

I'm still needed, I must go back--how

many times have I done this?

Dry eyed poetry


The night I died I wake up early — 5am — and wipe my withered eyes of sleep —

I peep out the at the dewy green lawn now beaded with moisture —and feel like rolling in the lush flourishing foliate freshly

The morning rain creates crusts of hoarfrost as the sun rays sprays its gay day light bright — into the hot rooftop — top

Leaning over my window sill I smile at the crow barking at the piece of crust I hold tightly —
Windows here are non drafted — non sealed — cracking — leaking — creaking and

I see next door’s open back gate

A deer frolics its way across the parkland and into the forest badlands

Recently I saw a cockroach appear — jumping past quickly as if he knew I was enemy number one

I didn’t try to get it — rather let it go along the way — across the bench and up and into the cupboard — not wanting to assess the mess it might leave after being in there

Bush ‘Dread Zed’ said he would be in the brushwood after ten only he didn’t make it again
Decorated and funny he lacks punctuality and reliability — erasing points off of my mindful mentality tokenistic consciousness

He left a gas map — mishap — catnap — fat-snack for the girl with the large rap — *** — sat —in her lap — Cat — a friend of mine who I occasionally sleep with

Gyani and Tao exercises for the limber and supple take out the late afternoon not quite as rough as past classes

Little do I have left of my Iyengar yoga instruction I did for over ten yearsor over ten years

Agile as a jaunty kid of eight I stretched — up — doing the crab — better than everyone else in the class — down into a headstand holding for over fifteen minutes then pitch a perfect posture poised in plain sight for everyone to see

The instructor liked to push us

But that was a while ago and existing (time) takes on a different meaning as you grow older

It appears as an extra second of life that you must have had but can barely imagine nor remember doing or living

Or driving in — or dancing with— or gallivanting over — or jumping out of the box— or stuck inside the head— or in a blank space —
Maybe just around the corner and back —
Clued to be fed up with exhaustion and desire to change — sometime — when?

Tommy draws a picture of tomorrow evening at dusk— wild eyed and smart I like him a ton —
I feel his head slump on my shoulder and tears flow from his pretty face — ***** dawny fawny drawny — until morn — down his cheek — like salty sea anemone

Hanging for a hit
Gear is easy to come by here
Otherwise you would go
mad

Insane language is spoken by the tongue of Eastern Europe — Old Czech Republic — Croatians — mixed with cheap red wine makes crazed gloating girlfriends scatter — plot the data in a bottle and fly away

Some folk say things like ‘don’t change’ when they really mean
‘I wish you would alter your clothes’

Sam dances around me like a dervish
A special man who was at the *** end — break up — early of his laddy to go
Futile bit — **** of a little kiddie — exited

Poor sore raw roar furore More tears are fraught with gaunt ****** leanings — meaning seeming yearning — gone boyo of 15 —

Sam reminds me of an older woman — wise wizened—

Grown men cry too during a

Guffaw — **** taking falling off hopping laughter

The end of the story


Mimi Bordeaux February 11 2025

Knocking around
all over the world, and finding
a yellow hallway
during the rain.

Shiva,
did a headstand,
and leaned
against the red brick wall.

A trio of blue bloods
drinking red wine.

She put on a record,
and played it at double speed,
he and he's impatience waned.

Our wandering feet
slowed
and the rhythm
of words
brought us
to the ground.

What are little sisters thinking about?

Paul is dead,
and dying
from his throaty
Elvis voice.

My old room
used to be haunted
by ghosts and demons,
they would borrow my books
until
I needed them back.

Its not that cold,
and upon leaving

the birds chirped,

you could smell
earthworms
crawling in the
wet
grass.