someplace I can see the mountains

someplace i can see the mountains I AM far over the rooftops ridges in the mistwe are in golden sunlight under purple sky mad energy direct from RA

Lucrates, Mr. Sweetleaf & Mebarefootstanding on the roof Ozan slipped down trying to climb up in his socks he brought us a such a glorious fat spliff

birds in yellow and pinkfly toward the mountains--craziest cloud formations i ever saw taking me back to the amazon 14 years oldwith dad on the riverboat i took a picture of the sunset

here now aotearoa land of the long white cloud where Polly and i talk blissed acid trips energy & the Way memories of the flood we survived together & the whole Rainbow family dancing in the streets of Haast shivering with joy in the suburban void

powerlines leading up to the cross don't obstruct the view--they paint the lines of a masterpiece faroff siren and off beat tribal drum in the garden below--perfect soundtrack to the fivestar film called RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW

wind in my hair and the last few streaks of orange refuse to say their goodnight's until finally Ra tucks in the last of his divine sunray children and i sing them a lullaby in love with the jagged horizon someplace I can see the mountains I AM

and this is how i know we are one

the tree that shades my head against the heat took root
in the dust of my ancestor's remains

i, too, will one day turn to earth
and the grass will pay homage to my memory
by growing thick and lush
and my great grandchildren will free their toes
in its glorious green and laugh

and i laugh too, for i am content
with my part in the great unending cycle

but-- i will not rest until
i have made of it the best & i will
climb up up to the crest of existence and

leap!

that's death
and i am
at peace
with this.

a leaf being slowly lowered to the earth
by the dancing hands of the wind

snow in the spring sun, melting without protest
plays martyr to the thirst of budding green

dandelions being blown to pieces by overzealous children
give life to the next yellow-headed generation...

it's all a bell
ringing on and on
resonating from the heart of Life
and existence is just an echo

i understood

my eyes are open

but i walk through fields of dreams

i am stronger today

less a boy and more a man

ah, the infinite questions

better to focus on one another's eyes

we don't pretend to know what this is

labels do not suffice to explain the actions of the soul

i have learned

not to hold my heart back, to let it dance

and when i opened my arms to the sun

(to you) i felt my soul bloom like a lotus and i

understood

bluebird

i am the innocent misled bluebird
that tried to fly inside the house one year
& was cruelly denied by a fresh & sparkling window.
stunned
because all he wanted was to explore his world
a little deeper.

it's not so easy, being an adventurer
but i'll pick myself from the gravel
& fly again.

the truth about geysers / the subterranean tango

somewhere, deep, underground

there is a hallowed dancefloor where i tango with my one true love

we are subterranean dolphins doing backflips in the dirt

and when we come to the surface

to breathe through the eyes in our backs,

they call it a geyser.

we may be Old but we will be Faithful

until the muddy end.

the price

painted steel & wood frameworks arch high into the blue
rush of wind and whirr of rollers on twisted tracks

the masses curse the length of hot sweaty zigzagging lines
that they paid the price of a dozen meals to stand in

i want to lose my voice screaming
but not while a child loses her voice permanently!

starved

& her mother's parched vocal cords no longer can sound the pained melody
of the mourning song
you could barely hear it,
the city's rumble-grumble of greed
drowning her out

along with me, and you, and the screams
the click-click-clack of the coaster track & rush of wind
drowning her out

pushing past the site of her grief
to secure our place in line
for a thirty second thrill

rolling to a halt all dizzy and just in time
to buy a ten dollar sandwich and curse
the price.

may seven

the river flows buena onda
smooth beats the rhythm of my essence
and sprained ankles can still tap to the music...
living, it's a flow, it's love
it's a piano played for the audience of the universe with nothing but joy the reward
it's laughter & desire, thanks
to the spirit that moves in me and you and her and him
makes us all DANCE
holding hands in a rainbow circle of the soul green grass in our toes...

freedom comes from the inside
it's what bows the violin of an Auschwitz musician
it's the pen of the drafted poet in boot camp
and every man seeks what he has already
deep inside

some say that the effect of closing one's eyes is a temporary blindness
but the truth is
to look within is to zoom out panorama widescreen
and the whole world lies in a single human heart

yesterday / dawn

ayer yo vi la cara
del viento, y en sus ojos
pude ver la sangre
de un mil corazones rotos.

translation:

yesterday i saw the face
of the wind, and in its eyes
i could see the blood
of a thousand broken hearts.

i like it better in spanish. like most things. spanish is beautiful, it's like a golden misty morning.

exactly one week ago i came home at 5 AM and chanced to look up into the sky. the stars were bright like backlit diamonds. i took my sleeping bag and two blankets and climbed onto the roof of my shed where it's mostly flat. from that throne i watched the sky as it turned from black to navy to blue to lighter blue and orange began to fan itself up further and further and then i fell asleep. it was beautiful.

sueño de la madrugada

in my dream we rise together

in my dream we never sleep

in my dream our souls are free

to leave our bodies in the deep

in my dream you are my lover

in my dream i have a heart

in my dream you take my hand and whisper

never shall we part.

a little spanish poem of the moment

esto es lo que yo no puedo explicar
como la luna, cada noche, grita por el mar

pero dame una mano y vamos a vagar
yo se solamente que quiero explorar!

saturday morning

down, down, down, through rusty pipes, centuries old
the refuse of my abandon flows.
it is an angry, caustic river, and
the debris of its journey remains in my nose.

the heart can't decide

will i take your hand, or will both of our ashes end up buried in the yard?
i love you, we need each other, i am afraid, you are confused

but our stomachs feel lighter and lighter and we search for the secrets of the heart

we are humans
we are lonely
we like to sit close on the couch
we like to touch each other
we like feeling like we are something more than skeletons with paper mache skin

the head shakes itself no
the vocal cords of the body spew a resounding yes

and the heart can't decide

to be free

the soul of the Night

and the love that is Light

join together to fight

against wrong masked as right.

and I with my weakness

try to break through the bleakness,

exit this tomb of red and blue glass--

(pursue the abomination: ASK ASK ASK)!

that i might fly, inside, abide

with Night and Light, take up their cry,

run together, scream together

abolish polished walls, bring fall

to palsy of the soul, and all

boundaries surrounding

hearts that Are   

                              POUNDING!

                                                      bursting!!

                                                                        thirsting!!!

                                                                                    to be free!!!!

the switch

he likes to chew his cashews in five
washes dishes and scat sings to feel more alive
he wonders when and if love will arrive
and searches for the switch, survive to thrive.

boulders

wait while the ghosts of dead families decide my sentence—
the judge is out and the jury sits in the big chair with a mallet
and pounds little birds into the woodwork

please! duct tape my heart to the inside of my head!
turn my skin inside out, maybe then, maybe then
clara barton will run away!

i dare you! look away from that cancerous dance in a box,
look me in my eye
and oh! how our insanity shall multiply!

do you feel it? the creeping madness?!
the hurtling stone in the heart, the bitter sneer of the lip
the excrement of a thousand subconscious lusts tingling in your toes!!?

and i will kick and kick and maybe finally, finally
my foot will fly off and land on the boardroom table,
and the moldy beasts with their black leather briefcases
will shrink back in terror while i hop to the kitchen to get a bagel

but oh! my love! if you read this will you still put my head on your heart?
will you still kiss my neck, run your hand down the appalachia of my ribs
and smile?

lightning! make me your mistress, we will find electric pleasures in the angry clouds
and i will hide in the forest when the sun comes home from work!

don't look! don't look! don’t look to the sea!
for salt and spray have betrayed you and me
and our boat's beams are made of bones


i am but a stone's throw from the chains of the sane—
thank god there are only boulders here.

gunpowder

i am gunpowder
i will explode one day
instrument of death
or joyful display?

a thursday evening

alone, i find some semblance of peace
my fingers shake from lack of sleep
silence grows in its defiance of day
and all the songs in my head fade away.

your shoulder, your neck, their absence
my faltering frame's desire for warmth
your hand in my hair, a memory
the rest in your touch, a dream.

soon i will rise, but not inside
soon i will walk, but i wish to glide!
soon i will smile like i never lied
soon i will laugh, but i'll wish to have cried.

stop

eschew the rumble.

thou shalt not stumble.

carry this weight and do not fumble.

open your eyes. hear nature grumble.

the jaguar roars as forests tumble

starving while the masses mumble.

STOP!

awake!

do you not understand?

stop building! stop cutting!

consuming, irgnoring

the plea, the cry

of our mother, the sky

the shit that you crave will be your grave.

thou shalt halt. or watch your world crumble.

Tonight is one for madness
for light in dark corners
and the spewing of soul wisdom
under white stars, with living guitars
dancing in hands trembling for joy

Tonight is one for reaching into chests
to pull out beautiful filthy hearts
to hook to one another's veins
to pump existence into flawed bodies

Tonight is one for raw experience
purest forms of holy communication
smiles and laughs and tears for the ages
great drops of soul-rain breaking down dams of kept in skeleton waters so the flood can free the land by way of beautiful destruction

Tonight is one for doors, not opened but thrown
with forward force off rusty hinges
cast aside like cares and burdens and evil hanging-over monsters of the responsible stale day that now shows its extreme lack of worth

Tonight is for me, it is filled with my longings, my red wishes and blue abstract desires
Tonight has a voice like a megaphone in my ear and it's begging me to come out and play in its vastness and joy and to bring those souls of my endearment along for a collective session of wide-eyed enlightenment, sitting at the feet of wise all-knowing Night and drinking her danger until the sick dawn-elephant stirs, until it raises its head to rise and still we laugh in its face, loving life too much to be anything but mad lunatics, proud of mad lunacy--

and perfection is in those waning moments, drunk with life.

;

and i wonder
does the heart of the sun
burn as mine does
for you?