Tag Archives: life

la plus grande œuvre

 

no superficial thing….

is it

?

letters sink into paper like fingers into skin

paper receives ink like cells inhale connection

it is absorption

it is beautiful

it is magic

oh truth

when reduced to love

our density falls away

torturously inexplicable

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Don’t Listen To The Bells

 

games involving firewood

result in splinters

..

the ants go marching one by one

hurrah hurrah

THE ANTS GO MARCHING ONE BY ONE….

..

floored by lino and valium her apron is stuck between her legs

crumpled and damp

tense air on slack cheeks

he is gone and he is still here slapping her rightness in the face

those were some hairy hands

 

..

she remembered when they glimmered light with certainty

rubbing off in subtle patterns

delicious and secretive

telling stories of church bells and worn stone, folding like sugar creme

turning up the heat.

..

the bells

they

wind this city down, clip the folders shut,  bring adventure to a close

..

a directive not a soothing

a belt not a swing

a confine not a win

..

and we are laughing on clouds with our feet dangling in a robust swamp brimming with colour and life.

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enigma

 

enigma

inexplicable

mystery….

emitting of power spritz

sparkling

flesh juice

in this mushroom

this walnut

this organ

of

insanatorium

set up

so

when we touch fingers

invisible things

fly off antennae,

vibrant rays of extra terrestrial

zzzt zzzt wire

hmmmm

watch your wet tongue

human

it will set you

on fire!

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Corn I AM

 

lets shuck these green folds of

corn skin that cover me

my kernel is sweet

I am….

rows and rows of friends

walking stiffly forward

a drama unplanned, randomly perfect,

an organised chaos

I in my gold pants and flourishing breasts

like waterfalls of flesh

sun bleached dunes

parting veils

dripping butter

smiling in a tempest of

spices

feet

personality

This is magical…..

a world

where a kernel of corn

is the meaning of life

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Indigo Chariots

 

~suspended~

it is an unlikely animation

a milky cartoon

free seeming

yet

secured by

ribbons

connected to indigo chariots

the colour

not the speed

provided by snails or gods

you know,

with

glowing shells

BUT

remember please

we are more than shell

 

we are the red gold life that flourishes in coral and floats

bouyed on salt

singing

and squealing

we are fertility

coating the sun and disappearing

only

momentarily

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Under The Sea

 

 

I think we live under water,

suspended in muffled moisture,

hanging like invisible tears.

I think we envy the octopus, her eight intelligent arms

and the seahorse his marvellous paternity!

I think we live here, in life’s womb,

swaying,

swimming endlessly toward angel fish,

waiting for the undercurrent to touch us,

our naked skin,

tasting of salt.

 

I AM Grateful For My Breath

 

 

I breathe the coloured air

cool

like Autumn

morning

teaspoon in a cup.

 

A touching

clear

precision the dawn brings with it,

a focus, an esteem of something new;

like Womanness.

 

‘Womanness,’ he said, just a word, a new word,

or more…

a strange word,

a strange man, but real maybe…..

 

WO MAN (is this) NESS (ecary)

(ecstasy)

(empty)

(balance)

(desire)

desire for balance

desire for Woman ness.

 

Womb…Man…Nest…

more or less

 

I don’t know

let me pause for a moment between

breaths………………….