420 fledglings escape pie and fly
Silent night, pensive night.
Carefully managing intrepid flight,
serial soaring heightened insight.
Self-sabotage may be a right.
So is a paradigm shift, excitement of
a quick turn through reality’s rift
into a fountain of play.
Happy day, glorious day.
Why would we have it some other way?
Revise decorations — more brilliant, more gay!
Dialogs weave beyond yay or nay.
Reveling in destiny’s space/time/what may.
RRRRRunning–Spinning– rising to fly, to reach
and conquer the sky, the rooftops, the treetops,
outside the city crowds.
Ascend beyond all those petty groundling woes and fears.
Climb past the clouds,
among stars and moonbeams.
Catching sight of
those celestial omens foretold by fantasy.
Catching hold of tickly, teasing, zooming ecstasy.
Catching up to steep snow peaks. Peering in lofty windows.
Prancing gaily so many feet above fields and roads,
glancing below — can’t catch me
not you dour, sour,
glum-faced cons down on the street.
Learning to fly, to soar, to race up high
where I can see for miles,
and miles recede.
Learning to say no to ordinary normality
and break free.
Learning to say yes to magic, and make magic me.
unlike anything before.
Learning to break out of bounds and take in more
Ain’t nobody gonna tell me I can’t fly.
Smoke and Mirrors
The calmness of night
with no one
and the cat and the music.
out of reach, out of time
feel me yearn
for soft waves, perfumed
a secret moonlit ride.
Gentle, waft breezes
carry, caress calloused cares
Loving seas, cradling essence.
Paradise state of mind.
Some are born to battle,
to die of sadness on rocky
If I could give them ease,
words and gestures
that bind us all
in happy equilibrium,
I would gladly reach out
so far my arms might break.
I would sing above the fray,
I would open the walls
that hold nirvana at bay.
Would you exercise escape?
Would you swim into bliss,
drink the nectar of precious contentment?
Would you be so elated
in potent beatitude?
Or defiantly never
look past the sign:
No Weapons Allowed
April 20, 2008
Caught up in the whirl as the world evolves
We weave by the light of the moon.
A fabric of fancy, sunbeams, pansies, mist.
A trail of bluebirds embroider your tresses.
A veil of gossamer softens your eyes.
A breeze of belief to embellish your breath.
Dressed for the fete in the finest of jewels
Alive to excitement, shining with love
Wrapped warm in a floating cape of wishes fulfilling
Reality enrobed in symbols.
Where would we be outside our trance?
Ecstatic in sunrise.
Open to the rainbow rays.
Whirling, life within the dance.
Each cell, each system, synchronized.
Vibrating to celestial tones.
Each jagged lonely fragment
joyfully bonded, tethered with love.
Sent on to chance.
Listen then, and hear anew
A melody so swift and free
It’s memory can carry you
Floating on a magic sea
To the inner facings of your soul.
Look, and feel with lover’s sight
the polished crystal jewels of time
that catch you in your secret night
and send you tumbling down the mire,
through vortex lambent rabbit hole.
Expand the seconds of eternity.
Find your way unwinding.
In a hovel-hole basement haven.
We keep the faith and
And it was told . . .
How the everlasting presence
still isn’t very old.
How the Diamond got her ring
How the matchgirl got her king
How we all got everything
And how everything got sold.
Reeds bending in the wind.
A haunting sentimental song.
Breeze saunters by.
The neon letters “PEACE” light up the air.
A poem in pictures and sound.
Rather like a spell, you know.
Those dawning tendrils
sneaking through my windowshade.
But it’s much too early to be rising.
So I’ll dally in enchanted romance
I’ve no one to wake to
beyond the dawn.
Reaching to the stars,
tarry in eternity:
This is all.
Soldiers marching in a desert,
remember not their daily cares.
Remember only endless marching.
Caught suspended, unawares.
The crackling fire.
The sweet cascading smoke.
Light another match and start anew.
As pinwheels and starbursts float
through brilliant trails.
And visions of all our wanderings gently
drift in liquid air.
mix phor meta
double, double toil and trouble
mix in moonbeams dripped from Hubble
with a pinch of housing bubble
dump in tons of scraped off stubble
just a taste of wry
with a twist of lime
seconds cloned from time
and, Voila! a rhyme to rollick
swing your partner, tase your Dalek
what a party tea for frolic!
double down, but “Don’t Panic!”
brewed up for fun – enjoy the manic
d a n c e
There is a world here that knows itself in the way we all do.
That is to say it has a surface personality, a proper social mask
for formal wear. Underneath, plots are hatching like fish,
bubbles display quick new life — snatched into oblivion
barely formed or growing fiercely strong beneath the surface waves.
Was it a warm, wet Spring?
Is the Sun supplying energy without heed to the people’s stated needs?
Are ocean waters cursed with pollution born disease?
Do ill winds suffocate a nation’s glory?
We could weave this world a better story, play more mindfully
constructed games. We could take back our focus from blame,
There is a saying that what one knows is merely that
which has not been denied.
Dazzling Genie, weaves scenes of wizardry
upon the dusty window of my gaze.
Champion of crazy crippled dreamers, lazily
giving wing o’er wondrous glades. Simple,
serene days; nights of stars, Moonbeams,
ecstatic serenades, mystics’ bliss.
My nightmares exchanged for a kiss of your majesty;
enduring pain relearns its place, energy
refocused by your trail. Enthralled, at peace,
inspired by your tales of labyrinth space and time.
Honoured, awed by your divine gift, I become
Will o’ the wisp wending a land of glee.
Daisies, bright blooming weeds,
Whoosh! Genie arms-wide smiles
above foamy sea.
Beyond mere illusion,
absorbed by awareness – horizon
confined by no mind, reason, expanse.
and in that magic space settles
Women in velvet and fur, swan necks,
sip marvelous narcotic, sweet as fire.
Upheld mirror paintings, glowing wire strands,
prism hues, released.
Vibrant perfumes call to wander,
Will-less, free, each step,
each feather fall
a gift of mystery, of mystics’ play,
caress of bliss.
Mystery mists of history holy crescent lightening sky.
Calm anticipation early pinks ascend from eerie violets.
Thunderous Jove twinkles like a happy kitten,
tummy extent for adoration.
Omens, prophecy, hope for endless happy returns,
quests into/out of space/mind.
(without gravity, how can we fall … or love?)
Aching for stars, planets, dreams,
silent assent that means all is promised.
I touch a cosmic peak,
breathless at such altitude.