My thoughts turn to grass
Fields upon my heart
Wind in my veins
the sky upon my chest
Fingers in the hills
arms wrapped in valleys
mountains over my back
spine inside the sands
My blood inside the waves
turning into dust
Dusk flowing as patience
The quality of pleasure
giving unto morning
Pleasant to the touch
Of my eyes looking towards you.

the Fool

Its all inside, words, thoughts and more thoughts
stuck between the walls of my head, stuck inside my heart like glue
that dont want to show themselves
Fleeting moments of clarity come rushing in and pause
just long enough for me to grab them , hold them
look at them for a second and then they are gone again , never to be retrieved
The sadness I feel today is of loss, and recognizing the loss
as I question so many things. There has been no devision in my world in my own mind. Entruega total to deceive myself of things that will never be. Why when we know things do we still go ahead? Why do we need to confirm what we already will be a certain way. The looser will always make sure he/she looses, unless in understanding his/her routine of loss.
Why when with riches are we sometimes so poor inside?Why when a table is set with hardly any food may it be sometimes the grandest moment shared?
I will stand tall, true and clear, for I have done no wrong.

I couldn't believe it
I found myself arguing with him again
Hell I thought we'd been over it. But I felt like saying MAN...
Peaceable stars flit among national anxieties
Of dogmas, karmas, taboos, yogis and bewildered nothing- ers
Who come and who go farther than the eye can see
He
She
It
Nobody
or may be
Someone
What is its name
thats that thing I want
that thing you have and just wont give it
Over to me
Maybe we can strike a deal
He says "Forget it Joe, are you insane?
I talked to the guy yesterday and he said it wouldn't be in till tomorrow.
So go fuck yourself and get Mary to send it via post. You know fucking snail mail... and Ill expect it early Monday AM
Other than that screw it
You have to deal with things as they come and just dodge the insane humanitarian act of benevolence thats out of our reach.
You and that guy Manny, you've got the same problem...You're both hiding out in this insane thought that its gonna work out for you- But me???? Hell my Mama drove it to me like nails, drove it so deep I ever forgot, like Jesus or something, I learned to walk on water- But you know the water we walk on just isn't the fucking same as it was BC and all that.
Water today is like blood, and if you don't know where to fish- you're a dead
man. , So gimme a chance and I ll blow you some cash on Monday after that thing from Mary gets here. Fuck you other wise, I cant spare you my time and much less dead hands on deck off a car crash or some shit like that".

He hangs up..what am I going to say to someone as bull headed as that??? Do I even care? Of course there is reason in alot of what he said, Mary?? Are you kidding? I have to ask nailpainted, hairspray oozing, ever ready Mary for this one. I feel like it was only tree minutes ago I asked her for the last favor and It took too damn long to escape her sweet and well meant chit fucking chat, save me the Chinese torture thing, its Friday...blow me...why is the siren sounding??

Faithful

To the age of your disguise
to your lips and to your thighs
No whisper deeper no tone depends
To the haste of invitation
to your name of hesitation
No breath compares no sound offends
To the touch of your forgiving
to your words in me still living
No faint and unknown jest to the
heart
upon my breast

ब्लड ओं ६६

There is always blood on 66
Route to or from
Dont matter no
Especially in spring
When trying to cross
There is no fostered
continuation of life
My wheels as black as the sky
The moon as high as
My wine
Men been crowing like roosters
primping feathers
Strutting me up
My hips driving on
to the song
rythm of night
Over that hill
these bloody roads
and sleeping houses
sleeping
sleeping

To love

Crawling into me like your hands inside my hair
Gentle and smooth
Coming in like sand and its salt water lapping shore
sweet and salted
Disolving all my fear, frustration and anger
like ice into boiled water
Calming and soothing me kindly between its soft touch
like the beauty of music in my heart
And flooding my body tender and strong
like rows of spring apple orchards and valleys
Given unto its wonder my body moves and breathes
like a sea turtle as dawn kisses and lulls it
Through the hundreds of years upon my dancing smile
like the best days I ever remember spending with you
my love

Cunning America hides in the tombs of its predecessors,
too nimble to thumb its own hand,
digging from the graves of its innocent.
America hands itself to the deaf,
roars at the sheepish,
dies before the virgins
floods itself in youth,
never trusting the wisdom of the wrinkled
elders to whom the land belonged.
It dies before Rome,
It falters before the emperor of East,
It knows not is production nor its waste,
gauging the deaf for hints of their hides.
Trying to kiss the fur,
of seals in dead harbors,
of bits of its garbage in its belly fishing,
of hurracanes that hold no.........

NO information the CIA will take into connsiddeation
So many things have been written about America
what would mine be?
Nothing,