Tag Archives: texture

I am’s and chores.

6 Nov

I Want Wind to Blow: Microphones

You say, what sweeps me off my feet?

I freeze. Febreeze radiating. Debating.

Something like the hand glance, toe dance

coffee table barefoot sorta.

Passion vs stability.

Are you going to change the world from

the bus? It’s a clear bust to try to.

In flight is when your feels are real.

You land, you keep the lid on it.

One scene gleaned from the reel inside.

Everyone died. I lied. Still, not PG-13.

You showed a pic of the sun so

serene. Fire met dust so passionately.

I’ve dust for days but fire’s contained.

Where did it go?

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Ritual 2

16 Oct

1928: Califone

Cold stone phone woke again.

Courting song sung in tones.

Cold ride froze my toes.

Sorting words to keep sane.

–

Hasty call, “Damn it all”

I dive into the sound.

That old stroke coming round.

Spotting shrouds around.

–

Quarter hour of self defeat.

Crane bones. Lift to sky.

Stars pull ropes of mine.

(My weight while I why)

–

There’s tunnels buried under me.

Sloping sly, a gentle mile.

Melting down a fading smile.

Home again upon the tile.

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It’s Texture

17 Jul

The Flashbulb – Eyes of June

Tacked thistle fog tugs dusk down

with sounds and musk, bristle bound

sack tied with bent and browned

wire.

Dusk in a bag

 

is

 

night runs.

Raging silence, calm and ominous.

Fluid. Knowing. Calls to all of us.

Subtle cricket drawl embalming us.

Night is an egg.

 

if

 

yolk broke

then morning has awoke. Breaking through the lunar skin

crashing down upon the land. And, I’ve never seen the sun so grand.

 

image: dirac3000

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