Looking at that family tree.
Strung far and wide in Macrame.
Caught in a complex web of lies.
From yesterdays.
Those that went before, running into today.
There are good ones and bad ones.
Families that is.
Sometimes even rather sad ones.
The mother who slept with the father,
Who, then flipped to the uncle, who created who?
A rhetorical question.
Julie- Ann, she then discovered that she had an unknown brother.
The family love stretched far and wide, as at times the family members were denied.
Love to be close to recent ones, the family setting as the sun.
The draped macrame still hangs full of holes, stretched from bough to bow.
And darling sister was still a cow.
The son will always shine, an orb of of light after the darkness.
(C) Livvi

This woman I know
quite the old hippie
gave me this lovely gift

A softened silk and denim dress
Folded loosely
just handed to me, unwrapped
(We felt the same about the waste of paper)
“This is for you.”
Opening it, I saw its gentle gathers from the shoulders
almost elegant, its drape
and the rough
but soft and dark of it
Real indigo dye
with silk laces from bust to waist

...then the tiny stitching...
NO!
Not by machine!
Knew the labor was – intensive
Every edge
was finished, sewn
by her caring hand!

"Oh, lady of my dream

whom I do not know
I THANK YOU!
From my soul"
I would have made this in another life –
time
of hope and longing

And then I saw that seam!
along the side
that wasn't... really...
just those thicker threads
a silk macrame
of knotted net
so –  bold
to hold that one inch open
to hint at nothing –
and everything –
in between

“Oh hell! Oh ****!
Does it come with an occasion??!!”
She smiled
somewhere between shy and sly

You twist my words
       into forms I don’t recognize
it’s almost like
                           art

Looked in the lint trash
What, a bucket of spiders?
But that's just my smarm, I mean
Charm, yes so charming, I

Feel I should tell
You: See, I am the kind
Of a man whose particles of rage all blend blisters into macrame
What? That's to say I only craft with vengeance, Art is Hell.

I'm not really sure, see, it seems I
have so many words inside and yet
No order, no syntax, no form, no norm.

Can't spin A.D.D. into gold, No,

I can't tremble, blink, then in that
Blink! Distill a miracle
Of words whose sentience, er,
Sentence myself to the chair,

The chair at the computer where,
Confounded,
I shiver and sigh, sob, eye.

It'd bed ripping icicles weather outside
winter is here and I'm trying to
hide
but the cold finds a way in
my head starts to spin or it could be my eyes,
or this room's a disguise for an orbiting ship

I slip into unconsciousness although you couldn't really tell unless you knew,
I know 'cause my toes are blue, my breathing's slightly sharp and Jack Frost is here with a harp
to play me out.

I wander once again, but
it's no big deal that I can't feel
my fingers anymore
and why doesn't the cold ever
creep out of the door instead of
always creeping in?

someone pinned a tail on me
mistaken for a donkey?
I often am

the old dog ambles on

Timmy was a terrier and we used him as a ferretter along the River Lune,
t'weir were theer and we were here and blue sky diving all the way,

if only yesterday had learnt to swim and I could stop myself from diving in

carpet slippers on a parquet floor?
to stop me slipping if you're wondering what for.

It's that time if the time is now
and wondering why or how
won't make the sun shine

it does it automatically.

Let's you and I
Climb up high
Into this hive
And hide our lives
Inside

We'll disappear
Into our fears
So no one hears
Or sees our tears
We're mirrors

Come with me
My honeybee
I'll make you free
Just place your knees
Upon the tree

My home is dark
It's like this bark
And you're the spark
I need to start
My heart

Our light in beams
We'll invade dreams
And float like streams
In people's screams
It seems

A macrame
Of honey stains
Adorns the face
Of our dismay
And stays

We live and die
Inside our hive
Just you and I
Til the end of time
But why?

I yearn to someday make something of utmost individuality.
But it seems today I'm pensively turning blank pages perpetually.

It seems I'm marred, and it's
macrame macrame, same thing every time.

Presumably, light of it comes, but with what am I left as it goes?

Retinal scarring! Badum poots.

Maybe some knots in the cords of my back and creases down the corners of my every smile.

What comes up
must go down
dimple dimple frown frown
Come on outside for a while!
Sunshine daisy daffodil!
Hills and valleys, mountains
and canyons it's a whole
life story out there

But then I sit down
sit down,
and pluck the same strings
same strings.
Different order
same strings.
What'sit bring?
What's it bring?

Today I sit down
sit down
to tell you a story.
It's a short story,
but it's also a long story.

Like a mountain range you see from miles away without walking it's entire length.

I was a little monster with blinders on.
I took to my parents in a way of which I'm not too fond.
I was an orb of obsession and wrinkles of scorn on her forehead.
I was particles and waveforms trying to ride a bicycle.
I was ropa vieja mistaken for some kinda soup.

Papá!
You taught me how you saw the workings of the universe but you worked it like a cockroach. You turned me into low tail low tail grinding on the guard rail. Ready to flip over the side and tumble tumble crash. I was ready to die. You sewed my face onto screens of LEDs screaming with the cries of unclothed children. and you left me crying Mäma!

Mäma!
Saving grace grave face I'm sorry for what he's done to you. I see the weight of over two decades worth of ball and chain dead leaves still dangling from your eyelashes. I see you ripping them out from the roots when it gets to be too much. I solemnly sit beside you at that cursed kitchen table trying to wish on as many of my own so that yours may grow back without any fault. Oh, but I see them sprouting out all crooked in all directions and whenever you bat an eye you run the risk of years of silent tears tumbling on back in an attempt to finally be heard.

I've learned that no truth will come from the wishes you make on the lashes you take with force. Let 'em go with grace. Leave them alone and let them fall from your face like the loudest raindrops.

Our wishes come true just as we speak —
and listen...

this game
is not okay with me anymore.

you animal i am tired.

i am tired of the
antique glimmer in your eyes. boyish and
hunting and thirsty with instinct.

i am tired of the bones that jut through
your flesh and carve
into mine.

your knotted, silky figure drifting
and catching in the macrame nets
through the mammoth doorways
beneath the swelling curtains

in my mind you are an insect or
a wisp of frozen breath or
an actor sweeping the floor
with his eyelashes

at the end
of a brilliant
and terrifying
performance.

Faded brick streets,
Iron-colored pathway
Leading us downtown
Lilac shirt,
**** black raspberries,
Bursts of sweet, floral blueberries on my tongue
Old ladies in long dresses
with baskets full of vegetables
Saturday morning
Honey in espresso
Bluegrass in the blue grass
16, 17, 18 windows
Waving at little ones
while fathers' backs are turned
Sweet little braids and pink bows
Brown, but golden in the sun
Busy streets on market mornings
Moss-covered picnic tables
Giggling under shaded hide-aways
Breathe in the present
Sunshine shimmering through Maple trees
Beads of sweat;
rolling down water bottles and my forehead
Glass, pottery, and macrame
Herbs, microgreenery, and fruit
My mouth waters
with thoughts of sautees and soups
Robins chirp over the bustling morning crowd
The scent of fresh baked sourdough
carried by the breeze
Young, hip parents intermingling with kind, old farmers
All of us captivated with the now

you felt like a new texture, a fabric i'd never slipped through before,
but darling,
you and i are merely old habits gussied up in
tulle and a paper mache artifice - ghoul masquerading as prima ballerina
fouette for me baby, twirl me dizzier than a whirling dervish
and flounce me on my head to spin out over this choreographed failure.

i've shoveled so much chocolate in my mouth-hole this weekend
i think i'm rotting from the inside out,
made of only sugar blisters and quicksand sores
that are bursting new caverns to life
crafting a base relief depiction of my longing into my throat,
how deliciously destructive!

i'm loony-eyed swooning over this 90-watt moon replica
and these reflector paint stars!
oh, i think i'll trade the entire night sky for this masterpiece
and a macrame bandage for my chest,
much more utilitarian than the atmosphere i drown in these days.

my reckless howling and witchcrafting whimsy
have loosed my lungs from their cage,
wheezing out an incantation into the far-reaching wind,
Everest is ablaze under my spell
sobbing it's ice into the earth and
melting it's bones to ash in my palms.

some men just want to watch the world burn,
i, however, merely want to reconstruct it
from the bottom, up
shoveling all of its innards to the surface
and making the unseen
known.

Sometimes I don't really remember people
by their specifics or
characteristics.
Their hair,
their eyes,
their body,
sometimes even minds and personalities
become a blur

cuz
I remember people
by the feelings that which they leave me.
I am painfully aware of their
swift entrances and
immediate exits,
leaving me bewildered
as to how and why they
came to be

But for some reason,
I can recall
(almost) every detail
about you.
I remember
gleaming azures
and head-topped sandy blonde.
I remember
macrame, leather jackets
a confident voice
and a six-string gizmo.
I remember
your body: long and lean
secure
Electric

But mostly,
I remember
the multitude of feelings that which you left me.
Curiosity.
Understanding.
Euphoria.
And finally, disappointment.
Not with you, though.
With my naivety.

My impressionable soul
clings to the people who
captivate me,
and you sir,
were riddle and enchantment.
The ideal.
And you still are
in the way that mysteries tend to be;
unforgettable stories
of pure bliss.

Lifelong song
Sung .....
From innocence
Into efflorescence
subtlety with ease elevated me
I gravitated to her temptation
As natural as falling into destiny
The essence of my enchantress
Enamoring nuances.
Left me defenseless.
Intoxicated with sundry pangs felt in crushed velvet magenta saturated with indigo blue
Beguiled she held me still deliberately
Euphoric glistening tears flowed
so slowly and satisfying her eyes closed  .
Even slower the fear of death came and went .........
Loosed her grip slowly squeezed my chest
And with
a sweet
Seductive
Suction

Still deeper into my heart
her fangs sunk in
pains so succulent
I languished in sensual Sickening  
agony
Leaving my thirst for her
Unquenchable......

First Love-bite  ........
..
the venom is irreversible. ....
It's like being resurrected ....
A cocktail confected from your finest chemicals upbraided  into
An attractive macrame ....of attraction
The ultimate inflicted reaction from an infection that  causes sexiness and intimate ,
Instant
Addiction ...
Once her teeth sank untill
Her lips touched wet with mine
I lost trust in my mind,
And I knew that only insanity would follow,
And also I know

I  cainst let them withdrawal ....
She left me at an intersection
With countless directions
Which lead to any and everywhere.....
And yet for me it's a one way .
And it still feels consensual....
Karma my Queen
You put the hurt on me . .
And love is like the fall
When you learn to fly
Feels like the first time
Everytime I fall in
I love love. .... as much as falling in love.
But
It's the fall I crave ... And I'm a slave to it . It's the sudden stop at the end that I'm afraid of ..  
More than anything.
Yet.............it....
Hasn't
stopped me yet

There's still more to come
wallow in the macrame to places, faces &
years ago
there's a pull or a tug at the heart to light the flame
sheer desire why does on equate logic for a tower of power
the serendipitous way you call the shots many years ago
aside from the impulse of the hidden heart,
mix words through a slight of hand
features, creatures & moving pictures

breath deep
stand still & repeat
faces, spaces & traces,
we will walk the miracle mile
through dolphin fin a newer way to begin
look deep within my faithful friend
there's a portal the meets the sun have a bit of fun
the iglow and the ***
life is but a mystery
come and sit next to me
falling apart at the seams

the ambiance as we look in the finest art of sophistication
may need a break on a long awaited vacation
equation
the tongue is forever sparkling like oil
we all must go before the toss
I'm at a loss
a pull of the heart to light the eternal spark to where we need to go
bust up the beat to promote its tempo
that was sold out years ago
straddling the fences

like Led Zepplin we are almost second guessing,
the beat necks and sound effects through the noose
like a Motley Crue what are we to do
why do we worry always in a hurry trying to change the story why should i worry
through faint of heart want a brand new start
I just threw up in my mouth so I blame, ***** & pout
what is this life all about ?
Words can lift up and bring down
Don't ever wear your head down in a frown
sugar is sweet so sweet like honey
I want to be the man who brings home the money

Signs to the left of me jokers to the right
some say I'm living in my land of make believe but who are they
careesed by the kiss of a hero's mist
the impulse of the love dazzled from heaven above
wipe away my smile infuse for laught quit the chatter get another batter
there's another Cherrios in places you ought to go but that was years ago
inflate the common ego
shattered, misguided & trampled
like Gorky Park I'm lightning a brand new part of my tender heart
guide to the never world or have you ever heard
it gets deeper as a stranger giving cadence to adventure

why should we worry the earth is our friend we can cling on a distant song
take everything out of you for a distant rescue I'm still on que
fast as lighting I'm always smiling try not hiding away from my problems
trapped within a faithful friend in which to begin all over again
look to the horizon over the other side of the mountain as a magic fountain
give creed to the hallow deed look into the abyss for your heavenly wish with a kiss
locked beneath the earth do swell in a thought out living hell
shadows block the mere vortex to a smile still to know all the great while
like Michael Jackson it's all black & white
Never relent to ever give up on the fight
you can dream big with the pen with whom you can depend
life is what you make it so stop trying to fake it make no mistake with
there's still more to come

I can't wait for Christmas, said Mrs Claus, I'll get the place to myself for a day, the elfs can look after themselves while I put my feet up, perhaps put on some make-up, take up macrame,
get an Indian take-away, yes, I can't wait 'til Christmas day comes.

Mostly it's mostly so, that
the right or the wrong way
is the way that we go,
so
predictable.

Today
you
might win the lottery
have a shot at macrame
take up pottery,
fish for shark off
the barrier reef,
you might
turn over a new leaf,
but you could just be
who you are.

Thinking I can outrun a
bullet from the gun?
well
it would be fun trying,
not much fun dying though
when you lose.

A lifestyle more sedentary,
one in which
no one's out to shoot me
would definitely suit me.

I'm taking up macrame
nothing there to harm me

I was thinking of taking up a
new pastime
he was thinking of a past time
and the present is no time for that.

collecting stamps
(that's barmy)
victorian bottles
macrame?
which reminds me
I don't have time for a pastime.

The slob me
wants a hobby
but the real me
hates the slob me
so he writes
poetry.

Macrame for days
cruising in tubes
and fannypacks
on Caddy couches

Ash in Pepsi cans
dogs n mac
and
floral print velour
meant love

A onetwo on
Soda Popinsky
and locust
husks
on the old
walnut tree
were the
****

New Topps
new Jos
new Raisins
air conditioning
and the smell of the
rain

I find miles of twine....
Almost all
attached to the most
Fickledest of things .
Slack ...
Lacking foundation.
Out of order
In huge piles
Liyin  in snarling
Heaps.......
The other ends
Tied somehow to my suffocating heart.
In my free-time
I do macrame ...
As therapy ......
....
It helps me to unwind ....
But does it untangle the real things in my life ......
So I don't have
Too?
Or do I think it just a distraction?
I do.....
Then I do knot.

anxiety is like yarn
if you use the stress well
you can make a beautiful scarf
but for me
i can’t knit, crochet or macrame
my yarn gets knots and bumps
gets unwound
until it is a mess
that doesn’t even look like yarn

that horrible breathless feeling changes me
it starts in my gut
and feels like the buzz
of a hundred fireflies
i become panicked
not myself
and my alter ego takes over

alter-me is rude, crass, and bossy
the lack of control over the yarn
knots it tighter and tighter
spiralling
down
down
down

looking up from the pit
a light shines
reminds me there’s hope
but like being trapped in a hole
you have to climb out on your own

maybe that’s why i’ve always been alone
i’m used to being my own hero
i’m no princess in a tower
her prince galloping to her side
i build my own ladder
one rung at a time
and save myself

Intrinsic ,
My matrix.....
interwoven with twines of self sabotage and
Delusions of grandeur.
Like an intricate macrame....
Passion for perfection hate confrentation..an empath
Neurological anomoly
  high
IQ.........
So I do
to have a greater understanding
Of the meaning of loneliness ........
And in duress
imbued  
Great anti-social skills..  
I never will give up......
And when I don't .
I know I will
Regret........
more me time than most ....
Which honestly .....
It's probably best ........
Time passes while I over analyze,and practice.......
I pre assemble
And run scenarios in my mind ... .
Over and over and over .....  
I can see it I can be real about it .....
Foresee problematic
intricacies and extrapolate
Ramifications ........as the subtle beast slips in to ruin all these perfectly planned and plotted ......
Things......
In mid stream
Im sabatoged
To my knees on front street intentions of great self sacrifice and
Benevolence
Thrown to the four winds  .....
Errybody  got to walk by the stupid kid . ....
Nit picken up in the cool aid ......put themselves up on a pedestal ....while I go all mentally ......  

Woe....... Count to ten   .....
Before I wind up in solitary ....confinement ....then again ..... I bet I can .....naw ...... Forget it

Books lined with years' accumulation of dust,
old ink and an ostrich feather quill,
crippled purple plants on macrame hangings
and mustard yellow couches with wooden legs.
It was my library, my home.

Lifelong song
Sung .....
From innocence
Into efflorescence
subtlety with ease
She........
elevated me.
I gravitated to her temptation
As natural as falling into destiny.
The essence of my enchantress,?,?,
Enamoring!
nuances
Left me defenseless.
Intoxicated with sundry pangs felt in crushed velvet magenta ,
saturated with indigo blue.
Beguiled by her presence
she held me still deliberately!
Euphoric glistening tears flowed
so slowly and satisfying .
As her eyes closed. 
Even slower the fear of death came and went .........
Loosed her grip
Then
slowly squeezed my chest
with
a sweet
Seductive
Suction!

Still deeper into my heart
her fangs sunk in!
pains so succulent
I languished in sensual Sickening  
agony.
Leaving my thirst for her
Unquenchable......

First Love-bite  ........
..
the venom is irreversible. ....
It's like being resurrected ....
A cocktail confected from your finest chemicals upbraided  into
An attractive macrame ....of attraction.
The ultimate inflicted reaction from an infection that  causes sexiness and intimate ,
Instant
Addiction ...
Once her teeth sank untill
Her lips touched wet with mine
I lost trust in my mind,
And I knew that only insanity would follow,
And also I know

I  cainst let them withdrawal ....
She left me at an intersection
With countless directions
Which lead to any and everywhere.....
And yet for me it's a one way .
And it still feels consensual....
Karma my Queen
You put the hurt on me . .
And love is like the fall
When you learn to fly
Feels like the first time
Everytime I fall in
I love love. .... as much as falling in love.
But
It's the fall I crave ... And I'm a slave to it . It's the sudden stop at the end that I'm afraid of ..  
More than anything.
Yet.............it....
Hasn't
stopped me yet