treme

TREME




A deep nexus sinks into dance

an Anne burr dance, a live oak dance ------

I perch in neon green and frozen

dendrites, and Santa Claus in a poetic corner




(whistles walk by in cream coverings,)

Dublin walks by, Oak walks by

Forget the peake in the grey center

on the cigarette sword in black casing

An extra pale corner anytime -----

I'm in socks I found totally thin in the Treme




The green and red springs in consciousness

Elapse to say RESPECT MY MIND on newspaper

a group pulls up to get a job, the advocate

of status quo --- and pink rose jogging

stop the sky, eclectic, all the

roads cement graveyards




stop the wind before it pulls you to

your house, to the cabinets, to the room.




Five o'clock red whimpers by, on the

corner in pajamas, smells the pattern of the birds.




I get secretly fucked up on this

sky burning white before blue-purple-blue

I celebrate the blue dark wires and

dogs in their pink bird formations across blue

and the barcode dwindles in the trees

behind electricity. and live oaks -----




Blue sky has been but a dream where

I've fallen through rafters in a train/junkyard

I've wandered in your galactic

digital dream, and found swimming




The water is glue, and dries me

in a different form in another dream




A shadow where I may prop birds

near plastic bags we see as home.

A giant black question mark glows

on a white sign ------ why did we meet


Scratching your paws, a black and

white question wandering home.

GLOWING



Even farther away

My brain is cider;

light headed, black with mist

in a cylindrical-motorcycle-course



Hanging bag, and pixel,

and fences, crooked picture,

and picture, and organizer



Nail polish dreamcatcher

and how does that light come

from nowhere, and I

pause my eyes for a beer --



Hanging books and hanging boys

and pants and feet are

still in the candle light



and what purpose do sounds

entangle with tents in

our dreams, where we’re walking







Tuesday, August 16, 2016

1 from one understanding during the Blazing heat of reality in the soft sponge of life after true love fails me the unsettling feeling of empty comparisons in replacement of scalding truth a play between clinging to and letting go or pushing away from Shore and tears of true sadness opening to compassion for all living things deeply and the final respect to my teachers in this world

 2 a new group must emerge from the rubble of any deep change. they at once replicate the missing formula gone serum the blank poison of before advanced in the new doctrine which is essentially an experiment and will always be added to and changed

3 we are Miracles starving for the attention to the fact we are miracles

4 without sadness new forms of deep happiness find no place and I become Resolute absolute and blank

5 listen to The Grapes see what colors you hear silent color look deep look again into the orange peels
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