It takes some courage to eat a legume's fruit
knowing what is known of each poisonous part
of the locust (although the flowers may be frittered).

What's pushing up through the leaf litter
before the canopy is out, past the stone fence?
Wild lily-of-the-valley is my guess.

Of 140,000 soldiers, less than 1% have considered
the fruit of the desert surprisingly good and varied.
They have stayed and married women who are crows.

My own land is a land of wetlands but we too
have crows. We have waited and waited for this election
and now we're divided into just two factions.

If everyone votes and every vote's counted there will be
nothing for either faction to crow about. All will be
well with the republic and in the world what will be will be.

What responsibility does a citizen bear
for participating in a war, blowing the roofs
off houses, exposing the beds and clean-swept floors?

Warriors at the gate, you will not run,
you will not bargain. Dig in deep, feet
overhanging the abyss, protect your children.

I poured water into the dry vase of garden cultivars -
snapdragon, phlox, bigonia, bluebell, mint -
and have they not rewarded me with their collective scent?

Expect the foliage
Establish a sense for the centless.
These, and other low-sodium snacks
will be cast upon by lukewarm multitudes
As harbingers of a legume reckoning

a busy little thing, buzzing down the estuary,

then back again, up and back,                          practising.


in order to acquire, improve or maintain proficiency in it.
“I need to practise my French”



no clouds to cover .                               it was a gentle day

of gardens, les cloche and legume given freely.



the pronounciation was not at all as it should be,

the company all welcome.



later the v22, toy osprey.                           delight.



sbm.

found in wetland zones
Uruguay's national bloom
a legume, ceibo

Flowers share their golden bloom
I know everything'll be okay
And they'll get rid of all my gloom

I sing songs inside of my tomb
"You have to stay in there," they say
Flowers share their golden bloom

I already know about my certain doom
The skies turn a brilliant gray
And they'll get rid of all my gloom

I can't sleep in this bedroom
I think thoughtfully about today
Flowers share their golden bloom

Soldiers share a final legume
Bombs fly in a beautiful array
And they'll get rid of all my gloom

Blood splatters, a red abloom
This would be further known as D-Day
Flowers share their golden bloom
And they'll get rid of all my gloom

Chapter XXVI
Messiah of Judah III part
Miracle IV - Baptistery

Etrestles knowing that it was on a quiet hill in a beautiful hillside settlement east of Bethlehem, it provided unusual illumination. Etréstles; Champion of the Koumeterium Messolonghi, he felt that after thousands of years of his life, he felt in this Holy Land a great value of omnipresence. The Miracle of Christian protocol would begin in him, paying for votes and tributes in the Church of shepherd' s fields. In this rock of special mystique, “It begins its rebirth in its tenth life, before there were nine in Messolonghi (Koumeterium Messolonghi - Editorial Palibrio USA). A miracle happens that transports him to the caverns that would transport him from the oldest, from the nine past cycled epics in Kalavrita, Kalidona, Patmos, Messolonghi. Here you will see yourself face to face with past lives, with the lives that were born and fell, reborn in those that come, surrounding you with the shepherds that circulate through the veins of the air space, through the plain of the shepherds in shepherd´s fountain. In this analogue with allegorical motifs in commemoration of the shepherds and their flock, by which they are crowning this fountain, having before our eyes the sculpture of the shepherd and under his feet floral motifs such as palm leaves, heads of cattle, sheep and ducks in act of drinking. This hexagonal fountain contrasts with the Hexagonal Primogeniture; here is the miracle that would come about, to meet the intangible Creation and Illumination as clothing. They thought they were closer to the village ... but in reality they were three and a half kilometers from it, in a fenced area with a wide path that runs through the park on the hill between trees and lush flowers that clearly evoke the place where those 1st century shepherds led their sheep to pasture.

We were all dozing when, certain decagonal sounds would transport us through the church ..., in its decagonal plan surrounded by four chapels and the apse that houses the altar, covered by a large dome of mortar and glass that lets in, illuminating the altar as did the guiding star that pointed the way to the shepherds. Here the murals that protected us from the hosts of Aserá had already disappeared. Most likely, they were watching us with great chandeliers as they opened in the swamp of the sclera of our bare eyes. We were trapped by the quagmire that Raeder and Petrobus created, in these opaque clouds of sheep manure; they were trasminated through the corridors of the new worlds of culminating grazing. We went to its structure and above the entrance door the angel of the annunciation and above it, a singular bell tower, incorporated into the facade through three distended arches. Inside the beautiful fertile field, from a marble church in two colors the spaces to which the columns that support the roof also contribute could be emphasized. The chapels are adorned with precious frescoes that represent scenes of the annunciation to the shepherds and the arrival at the birth and the altar table that is supported by the sculptures of four angels, especially with the appearance of the hexagonal birthright in the middle of these stones.
  
Faced with this polygonal hexagonal effect in both parts, which were intra excavated at their own vertices. A straight line crossed them, from the north in a double semicircle that was concentric in the precise centric inscribed equatorial diameter of a circle that a sheep was lactated ..., here they arrive and are received with great hospitality by the shepherds who in symmetrical affability hugged them with their shofar on their songs and tunics…, each one was blessed by the rising air of another, rather than of a steppe grazed by ruminants and golden mouths. Twelve degrees to the right, in the sixth wick of the Menorah, a regular silhouette was lit, becoming of this intangible, whose thirst makes drinking water from a hexagon well, much more equidistant than walking among themselves, moving their hands with all their hands.    Diligent emotions, energizing the numb emotions that would vibrate from the third angle as they were coated with the vertices of the light that glowed from the convex morning.

They were six complex roots equalizing on the regulated plane of their animals, which were parked near the medium stone walls, where Raeder would climb to run over the walls, emerging more with each side in which to appreciate, embrace and emphasize the same forms, of which they could decide to generate a rebirth of two kings and that of Etréstles by a hexagon of internal illumination. Close to the church you can see caves, showy in the calcareous rock dating back to the fateful Herodian era, denoting some surprising utensils found, of which we know the mission of the chapel to found the diocese. Also made of rocks sculpted by Christian worshipers, under these temples we find the remains of a bakery with a large basalt millstone, a refectory and a primitive oil press, as well as a cave that served as a pantry and another as a stable alongside with a whole system of canalization of the water connected to some cisterns.

Etréstles, receives luminescent auto radiation immediately from caring and guiding, as it always has been, but now in a luminescent tenth life, by living connected to its own cisterns. A dog approaches him and shows him his paw ... how curious this dog had six fingers, there he was convinced that it was his generous shepherd, and that he would lead him through the internal labyrinths of his lighting by the sixth finger, to help more unwary and unconscious beings that enlighten and grant subconscious existence in fountains that have lost their law in outrage and self-rebellion. His rebellion would begin with the substitution of grass, not to depend, but rather to maximize them in the cavity of their stomachs, then he began to wander through the hills seeing how all his sheep fed on dry land, without any water source, allowing him to form food props that redeem him from the flesh and eternal grazing, to heal his internal temple and shepherd with hexagonal herds in rows of forage slopes, with grass and legume foods ..., all intra subjective spiritual.

Raeder ran along the cover of the stone walls, Petrobus circled the perimeter of the inert time of the upper cornice, the camelids raised their shiny legs filling their timpani snouts with herbaceous pastes, Alikanto sensed that only three kilometers away they were already it presented the stable, where to surrender to the intubating silence and the innocence of a super infant who came and went…, knowing everything. All the animals eliminated pastoral toxins and pheromones, leaving the sheep free of enterotoxemia, distributed in the soil and in the gastrointestinal tract of the youngest, the absence of bactericides of the Hexagonal Primogeniture did not appear in the holy ovine soil. The pheromones in this chapel were seeded between special and olfactory glands that would reign. They would fan its wings and its breaking abdomen by scrubbing it on the roof of the prominent chapel like a domestic hive. They would exchange the oral use of the inaugural floor to receive them in the animal creation, controlling the cells of the chapel and segregating the maintenance of the backward world. The mandibular pheromones were seen falling to the slab of the church, making the advances, to and from everyone's entrance, glued.

The pheromones of the sheep created recruitments of the others in the integument of each cognitive inflection, plotting them to enter the baptistery, something if it had never been possible. This was a great miracle in the rebirth of Etréstles, when they could enter their own womb ..., they lay on Etréstles, passing over her abdomen, generating honey from their own mouth, giving the pheromone of the sheep when they transit and the. Of the bees that provided her in her abdominal cell. Chemo Neurons and renewed receptors would be in charge of expanding the circulating olfactory lines, causing an electro transmission of energy never seen before. Everything happens  as a result of the metamorphosis of Etrésltes and his clothing of ten lives on the backs of the neurochemicals filling him through the largest lobe of the winch, which he had and carried in his hands and which he had requisitioned from the nearby mill of the ancient Christians who lived there.

The apostle says: “Each verse…, a molecule. Each surface and a new system ..., each membrane ..., rebellion of stimuli ..., energy chain, sentient organism ..., neural axon, physiology, science and the dark brain of eternal divine existence, six hexagonal angles of Shepherds and Primogeniture , creating together with a new genetics of harmonious existence that does not tire the eyes of the Creator, seeing how everyone has fun in their home garden "

One day I went to the river
where it rolls through the land like a steam engine.  
Summer breezes blew through
the open meadows tossing my hair.
I walked barefoot to the water shouldering a backpack,
hands in my pockets.  
I took a full breath.
Then another.
I went there each day to connect with the earth.
It was my heaven
and the path was lined
with wildflowers.

There was Lupine, who was purple-petaled and geometrically pleasing, and whose fruit's a legume in the fall.
There was Ceanothus, a shiny-leafed-shrub
with sweet smelling pastel-blue inflorescences.

Then there was the most majestic of all, Yarrow.
Achilea milefolium, to the botanist.
A perennial herb in the sunflower family
that grew nearly everywhere.
Stalky clusters of tiny white flowers
rested atop a firm stem
growing delicate fern-like leaves.
It's floral aroma so fresh it made my mouth salivate.
At the time all I could've said about it was that it was white and smelled nice.

I was no herbalist, but I had an open heart.
My mind knew that there were healing properties of some plants and poison in others.
I was raised here among the rock and snow.
I knew that it was never the same water
but the same river that swirled by.
My skin was used to being bruised,
splintered, or scraped up,
being a recreational explorer.
I stopped carrying a first aid kit everywhere.
I would heal.

It was a usual day.  
Gone to the river for a dip.
I swiftly dove off the rock into the turquoise
current.
My frustration and confusion washed away.
I got out with all the usual symptoms of a glacial swim:
heaving lungs, elevated heart rate, shivering, and crystal- clear vision.
But this day an unusual symptom of fresh blood dripped
from my pointer finger.
I looked around in each direction,
I was near a thicket of willow and poplar,
patches of brown grasses, and blossoming yarrow.

Instinct took over. I went for the flower.
I ripped off a leaf and chewed it up, it was bright and bitter.
I spit it out and applied to my cut with pressure.
It didn't sting like rubbing alcohol.
It just stopped the bleeding within seconds.
I let the poultice stay on as long as possible.
This one was a friendly plant.
Yarrow waved at me
"You're welcome, it's time we met."

very nutritious
a summer annual ****
black medic legume

spread like rat cage
opened like a rotting ink cartridge
spilling my contents
who's left who's next

we got blood in the gas tank
you see the legume and raise yourself a shattered mind
corrupt like ducklings at a furnace funeral
roast that bone to the marrow
how scummy

skillsets switch by the hour
nothing noticed or surrendered
a meal with no condiment
a smattering of things with lifeless dressing
get on their level, get on with it

serpent's last remark
a shot in the dark
how flamboyant of the night-time hairdresser to crush my beard
to spin on axis
we're stuck in traffic here

melting hands aren't the worst of it
your typewriter can't see through it
but it's not a destination worth forging
whether it is giant or expanding
or merely a tube of cotton ***** in the white, purest sink
I can't watch this any longer...

spout your wisdom
craft your madness
eat your salad
douse yourself in oil
the deed is done

I profess to know much less

-Buddha

Love abounding in sweet fruity vines
it's singing a Parisian song
written about love longing in cherished tempo
sounding its vineyards
dancing on windy waves
climaxing its fruit
on table tops

Twinned on poles legume tentacles
likened to arms wrapping upwards
doing a roundabout twisting pole dance
in motion only meant for time lapse
escaping in quiet aesthetic persuasion

Loving earth matrix holding tender
its children of the vineyard
feeding offspring its nutrients
by cupping its rain
besides earth mother holding upwards,
on stake-poles,
vines to kiss the sun
and give forth indulgence to mankind

Sweetness to be consumed in future
consumption in redness upon palates
of delightful caressing of fruity Bacchus charm
Delicate collision of evening glasses under moonlight as two
delicate glasses Klink to the sound of  salud
while lily shaped glasses cradling the gift of the loving vinyard
Embracing delicate taste buds and submerging
austere social protocol into libido desire of love

is a legume
provides earliest grazing
Korean clover