if i could rewrite

the scene -

would i choose

a long monologue

rather than duel

would i take my time

reciting lines

again?

your lashes are stenciled

into my thirsty skin

but i can still undress

every article attached to

your glue dripping

mouth

the flame fell through

crispy rift snap

 

fingers in flight

we went up like smoke

 

trailing sweat of 

Sonoma sun

 

our pores

thick with wild

an invitation

meander

         climb

     fall

   and jolt

subterranean

    rush of 

     silken

            sweat

vibrate celestial

like myriad minerals

before

/

after

our feet

take communion

and like swirling sea

our chests crash

covered in

licks

of salty air

most people avoid

the pit

go straight 

for juice

just below rind 

but the pit is 

heart quiver; 

hope for tomorrow, 

and if nourished, 

never ceases 

to transform

sky peel unveils 

drip of orange 

tickled pale pink

we gather apart

lining distant roads 

again

the sweet burn

of your voice 

near

your palm treads

softly

yet it can 

decimate stars

with one turn of wrist

we sink 

     in ancient skin 

of another season

     cherry blossoms bud 

              slowly

crafting a sacred

     story

meant only

               for us. 

a wish

  glides gently

 

  over Tokyo tower

Coltrane beat slows

              heart

                   midnight wink

                  blue

         like Miles

in and out of dreams

 

                             again

sway torrential

lucent shard,          in your

vast wreckage 

    silenced by 

             cloud-turn

peel me to the core

so I can bake under sun

feel soft with my seeds

uprooted, yet still

budding

whisper-light

crumble

reborn

One Bar Left: A Bop Poem

Cyber metronome shakes, a finger taps

algorithmic strata of the friendliest status.

Self always present yet presently unaware

immortal Apples rot amidst silicon ooze

unconscious currents fail to connect

hair edged by ring of manufactured chimes.

 

We watched the end of the century

Compressed on a tiny screen

 

Ephemeral bliss constructed by agents of

soma delusions, how can we relate

in this dense microcosm of monitored Real?

Boom baby echoed out of a distilled womb

cradled by undone egos colliding in envy,

appetites savagely bite at air filled smog

desensitized by stimuli, searching for a

connection as red lights fade to black.

 

We watched the end of the century

Compressed on a tiny screen

 

Wider, leaner, sleeker, make it silver or

rose gold. Push to notify, push to buy an

opulence charged aorta that beats to the

sound of 5pm jingles just before dinner.

Outside: metamorphic hum abounds,

leaves transition on branches, then fall.

 

We watched the end of the century

Compressed on a tiny screen

 

 

(Refrain lyrics from “Deep Blue” by Sarah Neufeld, Richard Reed Parry, Jeremy Gara, Win Butler, Will Butler, Régine Chassagne & Tim Kingsbury, 2010)

Bold : An Ode to Jimi Hendrix

Inspired by Gertrude Stein’s “If I Told Him: A Completed Portrait of Picasso”

 

Vibrant beauty wildly fly wings grow growing

winged beauty, what shot you down? Sensory visions rhythmic

Sky flight flung fleeting and felt, he feels and is felt

his heart sings, sung, vibrantly strums, harmonic

beauty flying softly sing song. Eyebrows brush hair’s edge

waves of wild hair winged wild brows unruly ruling always he rules above all.

Eyes bold love he stares riffs of russet curls curling browed and

quiet eyes loving boldly he stares

riffing rioted rhythm riots ring riffed

clangclangclangclanged clung staring boldly.

His smile sings, sung as his ringed hand handles his smile

boldly sitting below grinning teeth sideways under mustache lip

thin, aligned with a ring darkened by shadows

shadowing his lip, curved to boldly stare and smile, sing, riff

from lemon chiffon to mustard mustering smiles by seasoned

paisley buttons and chin, staring down at grassy blazer chains chained

unchained love bold unchained he loves through song

singing breaking chains riffing unsung

curves of daisy satin sitting psychedelic  

sterling steals love lovely in fields of emerald satin sitting

songs unsung, he is a melody

playing, riffing onward into the sun’s blaze, blazing bold.

 

Graduation Day

coursing through veins, rhythm of change

            elegy molded by sinew

pebbled path requires balance

 

new ground shudders under our soles

            particles break apart, renew

coursing through veins, rhythm of change

 

tightrope walk over burn of coals

            leaves dance above, softly like You

pebbled path requires balance

 

deconstructed in shifting roles

            flicker of buds, layers of blue

coursing through veins, rhythm of change

 

forward press in wave that lulls

            sun surrenders, retreats from view

pebbled path requires balance

 

under pine stenciled skies our souls

            part from everything we knew

coursing through veins, rhythm of change

            pebbled path requires balance

time moves easy

stroke of sunlight flicker

fast

reminder to beat slow

 

Follow single file; a migration towards unknown sanctuary. Land upon a home visited only in the sparkling pockets of a dream within a dream. Matcha ice-cream cones melt mild and compose the day's tune.

 

young couple edge near

lips spackled by 

beach promise

above, birds flock east

 

An ancient bridge extends along hem of sea, its inviting hum a melody I long to etch in my brain and revisit always. I breathe into the deepest parts of myself and smile. Now the antiquated air is new. 

 

peer into windows 

see a story I recall

of a girl dancing

 

Silent streets, save for distant train buzz or bubble-over of child's play. Turn the corner without a plan (the best kind of direction), to pause at lone vending machine housing canned caffeine. The sugarcoated contents spill down boundless thirst and we keep pace as the sun goes into hiding. 

 

"You swim with us." 

She said, down twist of

quiet stairs

and I felt alive

 

Kaleidoscopic trance brought us into the night. Shop owners turn their signs, and suddenly it's another year. I recollect traces of balloon air, a distant cheer that fell into pull of dark at the tower's brilliant crown. A giggle brings me back to a small wooden table with new friends. The spark of "kanpai..."