Hybrids

Maybe I should
Maybe I should tell someone
but I can't
I can't even begin to explain
the voices in their voices in the way they yell at God
through the stucco ceiling
I'm a man! I'm a woman! I'm your child!
Don't you see me down here
in hell!
the way they pack up all their tears
and head here instantly to help me
and any other crack dwellers
getting stomped on in the hustle
a hundred of disability money here
sixty hours of math tutoring there
with phantom leather restraints and the echoing memory
of screaming for a nurse, any nurse, please!
Shadows of tyrants haunting the corridors
of neurotransmission,
ethereal visionary versions drawing forth
deprived, de-activated angels
out of their assembly lines into
such precise calculations
and it's all true
aliens, conspiracies, the holy spirit
as real as my hand on the telephone
behind the door in a dark room, sweating
the condensation from my desperate whispers,
"Uh huh. I believe you. Lay down and hush now."
Which never has worked, but I commit myself
and for the love I bare thee, I hold it not misfortune,
but an honor for this lesson
in the tangible divinity, in being human,
they with one tongue, in apocrypha
scribbling sacred sharpie syllables
on otherwise witless kitchen walls
while hollow hipsters sit around tiny fires
talking about "psychos", saying, "I could name a few."
At such times, I envy emotional abandon
but someone has to protect them when
the neighbors call the cops because
they pray out loud.
someone has to speak more
politely for them.
Maybe I will.

Voltairine

All keys shall now be named
public domain.

Beauty unfolding is the answer.
In every moment, a small change
spiraling out slowly
like a rose blooming
in orbit romance with the sun

One hundred years we could sweeten
sharpen
and shine in the Summer
Or one hundred years we could let
the urgency of death bend our spines
and paint our petals with shadows
as we become what we behold.

The magic of sunrise is suspended
inside each tight new bud
burning purely
the warm glow of love
exploding in secret gardens
charmed with cultivated innocence
nymphs march forth in Spring
fencing pricks at the king

Becoming
stronger every season
through the impact of pests and floods
and damn-near-dead neglect,
until they have stems like stone pillars
that refuse to sustain any caliber of parasite,
until the branches have grown so abundant
they happily absorb heavy flooding.
It doesn't drought around me.
I flourish in defiance of my disease.

As I have been freely given
by no one but Nature herself
I freely thrive to fulfill
what she expects of me,
to survive beautifully.

dharma queens

Rain or shine
My eye and mind
See right through
Your shiny vernacular
Time shifts inside
Like the rising tide
Answers to the moon
It feels spectacular
Somber repose
A bag of broken bones
The dust settles on my skeletons
While the underground shakes your foundations.
Worms await the decay
Of my body and yours, too
It’s called the after life
And it goes on without you.
The grass in the breeze
The smile on the trees
When you’re open to that sort of thing
Speaks centuries of illumination
discerning chaotic simplicity
the revolution, in anticipation, rising across the plane
wanes. A god lies dead and no one cares.
What are these systems of which we speak
as we ignorantly continue to pick and choose
there is a thin line between the bottle and the gun
‘Our father’ decides the context for either one
Americans enjoy a simple life
They just have a strange way of sowing it.
But the land before she had a label
Knew nothing of her hallowed name
Just that she would thrive to lie and die
So long as the sun shone upon her,
so long as her flesh was above water.
Not only will ‘our mother’ one day pass
A may fly dies in a day.
I will not be fooled into wasting
‘This chance to be alive and breathing.’
There is but a single system
I aspire to live by
And that is of the seasons
In their hasty consistency.
Man governs me not.
Throw me in a hole
Should you ever expect my submission.
I have come to terms with the intention
To dream while I’m awake.
Deliver me unto the day
that I may become a part of
it’s glorious undoing.
And when I should pass into the earth
The way of my grandmothers
I will be completely
One.
Nothing can come my way this day
That I and my lack of fear cannot handle.
I’d walk with you and that gun in your hand
Or sink with you to the end of the bottle
Just to mention the unknown and it’s possibilities
Of transcending the fear of your father.
You and I both know that sky won’t lie
You see in it precisely whatever you want
So remember your skin and imagine
You’re brand new again
Or condemn your own legacy to vanity.
Earth angels, bring your heartminds
be the vibrancy in our cries for healing.