other poems

THE SORROWS (Rated ‘R’ for mature themes, uncomfortable realities, and misunderstood reasons)

It’s just a small thing to me

Everything that happens all the time

It’s just a piece of the world

A part of the whole of it

In the ugly beautiful brilliant corner

The scared and shamed shadow corners

Lack of light leaning from light

Held together by expanding dissolving circle ends

It’s a great big piece of these gathering pieces of universes

I’ll be sad and know it

Know what it is

and I’ll like it like soup

THE DIALECTICS (Received messages approved in the here and now by myself in December of 2008)

Do you believe all things?

I believe some things

I lie about most things

I sleep at night

I misunderstand almost everything every day

I would be ready to be shown things as they are on rare days

My eyes don’t see well

They’re not made for seeing

They’re made to hide things

These eyes are good for little decaying shapes that don’t fit into the earth or the body

Some rusting device – nothing real

In not of

Lose to find

An embryonically divine natural enemy

Eat fruit to live and die

And live

Die and don’t die

Change nothing when you change

Can you follow me?

You can’t do it can you?

Do it though.

You’re not a demon

You’re not a god

You’re not a human

You’re everything

You’re less than the dust

You’re nothing

I love you and you can love me.

I’ll try to seek after all things.

DEAR LORD

Is there a question?

I have nothing for you that is new.

No riddles to solve or banquets to plan.

It’s just me.

I want to come

With something worth while

Something exciting or mysterious

I have me and I am afraid to give it away

I want to keep it and hide it and burry it and save it for fear

You understand that. Can’t abide it though and I’m glad.

Make me reach right?

I know your answers but am weary

Of believing it.

Weary of feigned effort. Weary of effort.

Weary of plural marriage and race relations and mohawk judgments.

I know… “it’s not you it’s me.”

I’d like to hear real words from you.

This song helps me to feel like you can speak real words to me.

John Coltrane keeps playing like you’re there.

Real improvised tears-

From your miserable joy.

How would that be!

Oh, please let it be

If I knew you were crying right now that would help.

OF NOT IN

She’s sleeping with a baby inside her.

The baby’s awake?

Baby’s moving she’s still.

Natural enemies and friends to God

Put together and held together by all things

All opposite things.

THIS TENSION IS OK

Don’t worry about worrying

This is normal to be worried about worrying

This is normal to be sadder today than yesterday

This is OK to be a person who is struggling

This is OK to be getting older and less sure

It’s part of it

You can love this too

You can’t have it

You can’t keep it

You can try

You will

NOTHING CAN BE KEPT

Where would you keep it?

You don’t have any shelves on your shoulders

No storage in your organs or vessels

All must eventually be given before being asked.

All must be lost.

It’s mana – it’s not from here

don’t try to use it for what it’s not intended.

Don’t be afraid of serpents.

You’re lying to yourself with your closets.

It’s funny and sad and I understand that you need to

Store things to feel safe.

You’re afraid that all will be lost without control.

You’re right that all must be lost.

And it’s OK to be afraid today –

You’ll grow up and learn something

about illusions and fear.

WOULD TO KNOW (Today I would not be a swine to your pearls)

Today I wrote that “if I knew you were crying it would help”

I meant that.

Today I would not be a swine to your pearls

I would not hearken to another thing other than your tears

And your fullness.

But I think you have been crying and I am a swine. I don’t understand this

But making an attempt so

If you will-

I will become a lamb

(and then likely wander).

But I won’t walk off cliffs or into darkened dens.

Wanderings will be somewhat acceptable

A slight grazing on a distant hill before coming at your call.

I would come back every time.

And at night I’d stay up and listen to your sad Sheppard songs

The ones you would sing about the lost lambs.

I would want to stay close to hear you cry about those lambs

To understand the reasons for the world.

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