Dolphin Goddess
You light our souls
With your rich and
Luscious gia energy
And allow us to
Bask in your
Goddess form
As your soul
And energy take
Us to newer high
As we all climb
The mountain of
Your love and
Connection for
Our mother earth
And for the rich
Feminine and life
Giving energies that
Are all around us
You survey your
Kingdom and see
That it is good and
Beautiful and that
All is well in your
Paradise as your
Dolphin Goddess
Dreams take flight
In the night we get
Closer to your
Heart and soul
As you open up
Yourself fully
And completely
To anyone who
Is willing to bask
Upon your light
And gain your
Ancient wisdom
And joy that
Sprouts from
Your heart and
Gets shared with
With everyone
You meet along
Your way in life
They see that light
And hidden goddess
Inside just waiting
To be unleased with
A warm smile and
Embrace of souls
As her energy
Collides and
Embraces with
The universe and
Everything
In between

pejorative memes remade unwise,
the natural artifice of slang;
and the mnemo-linguistic "advantages" of being called a ******...*

arbitrary signs..

chosen  reasoned    signs.

i don't remember history, living it as
predetermined amens sinking blind
profane in sacred incense dogmas polished
                 elemental airs of azure old allure
named aesthetics new and purely false
    unlike a snakeback break
    they realm of fear indulged--
placate artistries of loving touch to numb;
with medieval noose, blade;
          scald of iron pen and human metaphors for *******
    sent to human metaphors for hell before their deaths
to burn as scapegoats for immortal xenophobic herds
remade

this is a word's weight
  now,
  for all unhearing yet apologistic legend-churners earthling-bound:
one witchhunt grin and phrase
--legend or not, urban or pagan--
    will burn me here
    to face imaginal apotheosic
   dawn
   of bigotry complete
.
in long-yearned laughter, musics
     yet unleased to propagandist aims:
empty prayers undone as selfish grims
  i do without
  as any fairy might
        with dusty wave of hand
my wings are spillful everjoys
    of momentary vasts
          of ancient youths; of loves of
    glittered rainbow in the hush of sunfall snow--
escapes of real dismissed
   all
    real
       fiction-true truths
                                bearing living worlds of love
and labyrinthine strands? and twisted more, ripe!
      for shock and awe filled fuel
      sierra-cut at ranges incomplete as Tolkien Silmarils
                                i brace the let of leavings-be
sever severed links in inner chains of links
    to remake ****** moonbeam skirt
    of spectra cloud and starry breath
---the window opens maths of savor
        (apsaras! tulpas!)
        surveyed in the tones of healing buildings
        shaped of love

huddled shapes of perfect friends
                   all craning necks to common interstellar home

i could be clear and disagreement wright
but i am here to feel ineffables of ******* felt
fall  up    from anger
        into union's many-petaled rifting veils
and in a citrus spray of scattered mists unshared
a stillness swim of happily amused
    awake a zombie-language only Borges knew
        to burn a mark of joy on history's flesh
a hidden question-heart of sensuistic quest whose end is known
    and yet exclaimed unknown
    as glories only moving rainbows know
hang-glide words to shadow-stripe the eyes
                       and dash Mneumosyne another arching voice

Among those people
For me, you're the least lovable
Among the crowd
Your voice tells me you're the most proud

From the first of the days
I listened to your music
I can't find a way
Out of such sound so still

Distant as the ocean,
Bright as the sun,
Eyes of the soil,
A well-versed soul

You're a  flower that blooms in winter
I'm a bee who preyed you last summer

That "first" of the days
It was more than most
It was more than best
It was more than you

Then came another season
There you go, trying to know
That "me" I never wanted
That "me" I never liked
That "me" whom you preffered

But strokes of fate
Unleased its power: hate
Its not yet late
To be each other's soulmates

"He," i preferred so much
Wanting his touch
Seeking for that match
Made in heaven, so please watch

How "she'll" extract
His beauty and love
His songs and poems
His words and notes

soon my children will fly from my firm embrace
to that worldly gaggle of spit, and fire and chance and
unleased all... opportunity, happiness, love, and desire

but for now, I'm holding tight to their smiles and stylings...
and petulance and arguments and laments... pitched battles
that end up soon in smiles and hugs goodnight

and dressing up.. posing and posturing for a tik tok
dance or feisty Instagram... silly but so now...
flippancy and admonishments roll out like a lucky seven

going out, coming in, that's up and then down
here's the doorbell being rung one, two, three times
fast, so fast... "open up Dad keys are in our backpacks"

a blink from diapers to destinations... on their own
with friends and futures in tow... be home soon
maybe midnight, maybe three... really not sure

time waits ready to treat the destiny for each one's
sonnet, symphony... jazz riff or rap synapse...
solely and uniquely fitted like a fine dovetail joint

Gynecology is no laughing matter! Back to the **** heap...A wrong turn might drop you into the lap of The Full Moon School of Gynecological Enthusiasts...**

Gamma gauze tape pads stitches, sutures & staples & blocks yeast,
while nourishing the gloom of Austrian weather enjoyed to my east
where-from nobody is availed to rent land that is better let unleased
to slanderers foundered in the romance of 2 smooth bowels creased
obstructively for a slattern nun & Bible-rebuffing, monsignor priest
whose thongs bunch doing jumping jacks as *** hems are released
that can't be knitted, established, corporated, sewn or puzzle-pieced

Gynecology is no laughing matter! Back to the **** heap...
A wrong turn might drop you into the lap of The Full
Moon School of Gynecological Enthusiasts...

Gamma gauze tape pads stitches, sutures & staples & blocks yeast,
while nourishing the gloom of Austrian weather enjoyed to my east
where-from nobody is availed to rent land that is better let unleased
to slanderers foundered in the romance of 2 smooth bowels creased
obstructively for a slattern nun & Bible-rebuffing, monsignor priest
whose thongs bunch doing jumping jacks as *** hems are released
that can't be knitted, established, corporated, sewn or puzzle-pieced