My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -
In Corners - till a Day
The Owner passed - identified -
And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -
And now We hunt the Doe -
And every time I speak for Him
The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light
Opon the Valley glow -
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let it’s pleasure through...
-Emily Dickinson*

And I do smile, the white bright Colgate chiclets
stretch under my lips. The crooked thing, the
clever turn of my mouth,
we all pass a point in life when this is a means to an end.
Stop. Do not collect 200.
Again. Again, I thought "Send me straight to hell"
because it's not fair for me to feel this way any more.
I want to shoulder the brunt of it and throw it up and down,
white linens to the wind.
A dramatization of who I have come to be,
fueled and fired by alcohol and lack of sleep.

A stuck Lipton in the vending machine,
"I want to start a social movement of direct experience"
Sure. We'll do that. Let me get back. . .
let me get back to this blue screen for a bit. I want a change.
I want to see some change! Let's throw our
phones away and start over. Depression falicitates our  
efforts, but I had my pleasure. I had my kicks though.

754

My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun—
In Corners—till a Day
The Owner passed—identified—
And carried Me away—

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods—
And now We hunt the Doe—
And every time I speak for Him—
The Mountains straight reply—

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow—
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through—

And when at Night—Our good Day done—
I guard My Master’s Head—
’Tis better than the Eider-Duck’s
Deep Pillow—to have shared—

To foe of His—I’m deadly foe—
None stir the second time—
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye—
Or an emphatic Thumb—

Though I than He—may longer live
He longer must—than I—
For I have but the power to ****,
Without—the power to die—

Mountain bleeds fire,
Falling to sea, dark gold streams—
Sun behind her hair.

Mountain bleeds fire,
Falling to sea, dark gold streams—
Sun behind her hair.

Lying in your arms
Is my vacation

Your eyes are the stars over Paris
Your lips my Spanish sangria
Your scent like Persian jasmine

When you nuzzle into my neck
And rapid kiss me, laughing
Then rest your eyelids
Lightly on my pulse

I transport to that ashen couple
As the Vesuvian magma oozes over
Forever in terrestrial communion
Embracing - as we do now

Mountain bleeds fire,
Falling to sea, dark gold streams—
Sun behind her hair.

Unspoken words drift snowly white
Ashes from this Vesuvian relationship
First they blanket, then they catch fire,
As she slips away from the embalmed desire.

On golden wings of blazing fire
Burnished with colours of desire
The angel Lennon grafts, aspires
With beauty suffice to be sung to lyres
I let my mind swim with golden sight
Climbed his wings, took nascent flight
Skies burnished with colours of delight
Aura in the sparkling night
To stratosphere I swooped, sweet soar
With that boy irresistible to adore
Ferried to seismic heavenly shores
As inspiration from the ether pours
We twisted, twirled beyond stratosphere
Where earthen angels rain their tears
Untainted by bludgeon of times years
Immortal dears soothe mortal fears
All four John Blake Buddha and Ganesh
Hearts with luscious light enmeshed
To them all pray in their distress
For mercy, pity, peace and bless
Upon a light beam we met angels of the sky
Chasing light that follows where those bonny angels fly
Mesmerised as they pirouette resplendently
Sirens snaring mortals to hear sweet eternity
Trumpet my arrival as I stand with Shiva, God
Pensive at the font of time, his wisdom I applaud
The true divine creator hidden behind religious fraud
Of his sublime divinity I, pilgrim, am assured
Then to cosmic churning to hear divinely truth
The music madly burning with its beauty rare forsooth
Transcendent destination borne of sultry spiritual path
And now the wisdom of heaven I in earnest surely hath
The churning music sang to me:
NO YOU, NO I, ONLY ONE HEART, WE
Embroils with my mind seismically
As truth knell out resplendently
Ascended from that churning ocean
In all its glorious commotion
To Kali dance in incessant motion
Ending my hearts trepidation
Vesuvian woman in golden O
Hath me mesmerised rapt in throe
She the deva see how she go
A heavenly rainbow to and fro
The golden O the Buddhist crown
Of enlightenment in which I drown
The snub of which the sages frown
A knowledge heart not head to own
Zoomed back to earth to take my place
As ambassador for angelic race
In us the light of love apace
A force to vanquish evil disgrace
Nirvana came a state of mind
Lucid gorgeous and refined
Time and love both intertwined
As in its clime I to the Bodhi tree bind
This my tale of an eternal door
Shown by boy irresistible to adore
He is a legend in modern lore
Sang end of war, could love no more
Saved me from a devils hand
On oppressed shore and oppressed sand
Helped a fallen spirit stand
Fixed her with his wanton wand
Lennon is the friend of sages
With wisdom felt not read from pages
Vanquish hell transcend the ages
Unlock the dark satanic cages

I eat my corn dog
ketchup on my chin,
and the frogs croak,
while the crickets chirp,
warm air pressing gently on my skin.

A cool breeze tugs my shirt,
carrying a faint smell of cinnamon.

The cries and laughs of children
heard vaguely in the distance.

The birds' singing dies down
as the sun begins to set,
resting for another round,
as it hides its gilded coronet.

Yet the lights of the carnival
reflect like little stars
on the pond's surface,
dainty and novel,
shining without a purpose.

Just for that moment
I am unable to move,
for the night air takes my breath
and my body the darkness soothes,
so that all my pain melts away
as does this passing day,
and I let go of my regret.

I stop pondering whether I'm still sane,
for this moment I wish to remain
petrified like a Vesuvian
and all my worries, I soon forget.

And in those delicate seconds of clarity,
I feel like I truly understand
the meaning of my humanity,
of this abstraction that I perceive as actuality
what it is I really demand.

Everything in harmony
brimming with lucidity;
in utter awe of life,
constant serendipity.

head poundings
thick broom tidings
jovial jungles
standing atop
little dark city
white shoe brings
moon death to
vesuvian-whipped
crater polis.

Sworn to **** the Church (or at least forestall),
Reviling Jesus, Christians, and Saint Paul,
The Pharisees finally blow their cover.
Things in Rome are starting to boil over;
Vesuvian rumblings portend Pompeii . . .
Judah await their Messianic day—
       But Claudius plans to expel all Jews . . .

Hateful superstitions cloud their views:
Torah with Talmud their rabbis confuse.
Not-so-Abrahamic agitation
Fails again to unify the nation;
Waiting for Moses/Elijah/David
Some expectations are waxing fervid
       And Claudius moves to disperse the Jews.

Zionist riots make the nightly news
Every Roman synagogue now must choose:
Goyim government tells them to desist—
Caesar demands incense—and some resist.
For subversion (or just causing trouble)
Imperial power rewards them double.
       Meanwhile, Claudius expels the Jews.

Failing empire demands what saints refuse;
They wait for Babylon to pay her dues . . .
Forced to pack up and leave, all Israel flees.
No plagues, no Passover, no exit fees.
Like Lot, they had to leave in a hurry;
Enriched by God in interest, gold and worry.
       Now why would Claudius banish all the Jews?

Stand historically in Josephus’ shoes.
Rabbis babble on while Rome’s legions lose . . .
Empires die. It’s agonizingly slow.
You think it happened suddenly—but no.
In retrospect, not different from today.
And History will have the final say:
       Why then did Claudius expel the Jews?