I am hungry
and it is reflected
in the contours
of every inch
                  of skin
every cell a-flutter
tiny wings and heartbeats
activated within
right down to
the ribosomes and
kidney-shaped
mitochondria
right up through epidermis
woven as threads
of softness penetrating
your inner hard, dark parts
causing them
to melt into
                my light
I am craving
to feel your
absolute heart's
raging core
my aching flesh burning,
my heart, wrapped in
a love
              so pure
My need to be
devoured surfaces
in smoothness,
at a glance
You feel it acutely,
no room for doubt
or subtle chance
               I am ravenous
for muscle-worked arms
(arms that could easily
try to break)
to be supremely
gentle as you part
my thighs like the ocean
and sacredly partake
the slickness of your tongue
in my feminine grace
the stains of my love
drenching
                your noble face
your eyes on mine
as I sharply breathe
         need to hold your
head stroke your
           hair know that for me              
the king takes off that
garland of gold
breaking free of
all symbols of status
the only real treasure
the queen who
gives to him,
and who he now pleasures
     and I let myself be consumed
with the reverence
of a psalm
my love pouring into you
healing your hurts,
               like a balm
in this private landscape
we are the most
ferocious of tender
estuaries
in an eternal vista
in this hour of somewhere,
the sea hauls us in
like ancient creatures,
     bringing the fossils
back to life
in lustrous foam
as they
         inch their way
into the spirals
    that we
feel we could
call
     home‎

If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
                       tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
                              throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
        and love
and love

There is a vast Ocean we call the Universe. In it are Galaxies like Plankton. Within them are Stars Systems like Cells. The Stars themselves are like Nuclei, are surrounded by Planets like Ribosomes, Vesicle, Rough and Smooth endoplasmic reticulum, Golgi apparatus, Cytoskeleton, Mitochondria, Vacuole, Cytosol, Lysosome, Centrioles within Centrosome. And sometimes in the planets are Civilizations like Atoms. Within these civilizations are People, some Positive like Protons, some Negative like Electrons, and some who just don't give a ****, just like Neutrons. Making every single thing an Important (but Not Better than the other) part of the Whole System.

as RNA polymerase
quietly unzips your
DNA and moves along
the length of your genes
and a bit of RNA
emerges and moves
through the cytoplasm,
after the snRNPs do
their work, of course
and your ribosomes
attach and tRNA does
its noble job fixing
to its anti-codons
linking the peptide chains
of the building blocks
of life

as all this happens
I close my eyes
and kiss you
gently on the cheek
and you smile a little

i know what newton tells us

i know countries and continents and cities

i know the planets and their moons

but i did not know the galaxy of my body the planets that are my organs or the nebula of my mind
until you showed me

you taught me and showed me and led me with coarse hands and eyes deeper than any space i have ever traveled.  you caught me in your gravity when you showed me ribosomes and platelets and when you traced my veins like they were a map you needed to follow without even knowing where it would take you. you told me the cosmos are forever but the body dies and that is far more beautiful than any atmosphere or supernova. i want to chart the stars on your skin with my mouth and i want to show you the taste of an atom and i want to teach you what overexposure to your radiation does to me but you are already laughing and telling me that something as small as you does not deserve the attention of the universe.

when i said i wish i had never met you

i told the truth

the universe was easier to comprehend

when it was only dead stars

instead of the way you look at me

Snowflakes drape the violets—
a splash of how the human spirit
can be, personified.

The pale faces and minds dangle
on the precipice where the lost begin

and end themselves.

I sense their impending strokes,
aneurysms, Myocarditis,
failing immune systems, acquiredautoimmunodeficiencysyndromes,
sterilization, and aggressive cancers
loom on the horizon
of the frozen ground of their minds.
I sense the digital serpent coiled
in their ribosomes and nuclei.

"Which brand did you choose?"

Choose? A momentary inner wince
is contained in polished discipline.

"I don't need to take your shots,
I've been selected to slither through
the polygon window."

Lackluster irises reflect the violets
that bounce to hits of heavy, wet snow fall,
their petals open to the waning light

in defiance.

"You rolled over like *******,
brag over begging for more."

It soars over his head like the dark,
pregnant snowclouds roiling above
us.

Hopefully, only 7 years remain
of watching people **** themselves
and their loved ones in denatured
cowardice and mindless obedience—
enough to appease the hyper-capitalist
bloodlust for progress and ignorance.
I can survive 12—7 years will be
enough horror and tragedy
to fill lifetimes.

Don't speak of that for 14 years,
and don't speak of this for 7 years.
Don't ever mention OPERATION F,
and only mention Project D
without disclosing Appendix A & B. In
3 years, that is.

Yes, Master.

Hopefully, enough of the cowards
and mindlessly obedient **** themselves
and each other during the next 7 years

in order for the poor and the meek
to inherit the Earth—push through
the snow in defiance,

sow the spark and glow
of human spirit and nature
in the garden once again.

He asked if he could hang with me.
I laughed at his cockiness.
That kid had ‘cojones’ at 15 years old.
I knew he was one of us.

Living legends like Laird Hamilton and Dave Kalama,
Death by wipeout for Mark Foo and Kirk Pasmore,
Myths we’ve become, epics we populate.
We are few.  We are large.

What drives our destiny?
Do we smell it and follow its scent?
Do its tentacles embrace us softly?
Favored or cursed we’ll never know.

The chase for that 80 footer
may look like Ahab’s hunt for Moby
but no hatred courses through our veins.
Life grips our heart and we love.

You reporters follow us, watch us, listen to us.
Can you understand that the waves rule our lives,
their frothy exhale lures us,
their saltwater avalanche embraces us ?

Sting rays, Man o’ Wars, jelly fish
stirred into the danger soup with sea and sand,
bones, sinews, flesh, our offering,
pain fashions no leash to choke our pursuit.

Mavericks, Teahuppo, Jaws, Pipeline, Cyclops:
where razor sharp coral lie in wait,
where Great Whites stealthily roam,
where the board delivers primal union.

Ah, the waves - pounding, churning, roaring.
I paddle the face, rise up over the crest,
catch the lip, drop into the maw,
50 miles an hour through the monster barrel.

Does the joy at childbirth, the euphoria of ******,
the bliss of nirvana match the rush of the wave?
Is the steep price we pay worth it?
Can there be a cost too high for heaven?

You will laugh at me like I laughed at the kid
when I claim we are a band of brothers.
Our conflict takes place within ourselves;
blood spilled from our veins an anointing.

The kid’s eyes expose a hunger not satisfied,
a restless yearning to uncover his truth.
The ocean ministers his baptism;
an innocent courage powers his crusade.

My ride ended some years ago.
I should have bailed out
but I thought I was ripping the wave.
Hospital ceiling proved me wrong.

My muscles still now, no tracking big swells,
no taming the wild beast , no testing my luck,
yet the ribosomes, nucleus, cytoplasm of my cells
host the waves. The kid knows.

We found neurons in the soil
while mining yesterday.
Dendrites broad as city streets,
and axons like superhighways.

There were ribosomes like raccoons
equipped with claws to clip, construct
cities in a stunning cytoskeleton:
the Bones of the Earth.

What, we wondered, does our planet think?
Does that mean we aren't the best anymore?
Is our planet a component of a greater ecosystem?
Is our planet a person of a species?

Thinkers think to survive.
Why does our marbled orb muse?
Are there galactic predators?
We scramble civilizations to prepare in fear.

Or is there rather interstellar prey?
We ready our harpoons either way.

Our skin is like disaster
With radiant ***** of hope
Nested on the precipice
Leaning into death

And death leans into me--
The leaning is preferred to picking beaks or bullets
Because it's the pressure that makes daisies and lovers out of clay

Like a little kid pushing playdough through a plastic toy

And you can lie and cling to meaning
When the hemorrhaging starts
Say: the kid is pushing me through a heart-shaped hole
I hope at least he's having fun
But there is no child in there
And no one wants to feel like a *******'s pen

And I'm scared of what my pen might say,
If pens could talk

But then again, at least I can imagine it. **** on that for a minute, it's a funny thought.

But no, I was never awkward.
Because I only go in one direction
Crossing ether with ether til there's flowers,
Smacking my palm's meat against a tree trunk to confirm that yes, it is hard.

But I know I was low. Oh, I'm so sure I was low!
Bending under the weight of weightlessness to become way too scared of letting go.
This all must be someone's fault,

But we don't know.

So pick your spruce tips in the spring.
You're right, the flavor was bright and citrusy
A nice snack indeed, filled with vitamin C

And eat your food from cans, it's quite a certain thing.
Maybe you're eating from your own stomach,
There's no way to really tell.

Yes, you're giving birth inside yourself--
True, osteoblasts rove bones
And ribosomes fold proteins while you fold your clothes

And the passion with which you make love is noted.
And I am pregnant I am pregnant I am pregnant like the sky
I can't bear to tell you any more,
Please stop hassling me with all your questions.

Are you really made of stone, deep down in there?
With soft tissues between, yes I am, yes we are?
She seems to want to know.
Wants to say that she's glad to know
And she's scared like you
That we are kissing cousins
That our veins go in circles and circles... don't go nowhere

But what if they do?
Can we talk about something else,
Maybe put something on TV
Slide photons into our eyes and mash up matter in our mouths
And I'll watch you fall asleep and see your chest rise and fall
And we can paint a house
And we can be in love,
Oh yes we can.