'And the stars go with you'

Stranger, you are.
You must not talk to a stranger,
You must always lie to one,
And when the world stops moving,
Grope in the dark for one.

Carry a mountain, drop it over your head and cry loud. Scream like you can hear states away that I miss. Kill birds to make them all die for you. Make water and stir, and let it rise, and move slowly, like this………that when it reaches you may idle, make circles with feet, and slowly lower, feel water move like leaves across an angry face, take in the water and go down, till you see all worlds tiptoeing in the assembly of the water lords.

To lie back and remember,
The days of your happy and sad,
Call to hear a song,
That let me in where I made cuts of blue,
Smearing it like a sunny bitch,
And sleeping without looking at you.


There, I know a bee I can kill,
I planned its sting
I didn’t notice its dying,
Till criss-crossed it cried sighing.

weed

You bitch,
You promised.
And the trees sit still, holding bad breaths with an air of suspicion, at the impending decision. I grovelled, and crawled and licked the floor and wrote her name, to soothe my antagonism. But it flamed up to beat me down, to keep the head level down to the floor and smell it by the cold surface. It is not reminiscent, but it jumps on my breasts endowing them with a certain heaviness that I want removed. Discard, this minute, this fleeting minute when it turned one. When you promised, what now do I do with memories floating to be formed? Of dreamless sleep, and beautiful touches, and a feather screaming through; lifting me against the moon, for her to see.

Lights bright up spattering across the plain
Rewrite this history,
It’s been a long world in a remember
Of looking you at better so you see
Living saying long, long hour
At this city like any other,
World, it not good, you are still old,
Musical chair moving, skipping few places
Till you twinkle feel them at tips of slanting fingers,
Plan gather dust in Egypt,
Long night, long night, meet Ra and give him my gold-
Sands of a long long night of yesterday tiny fire lights

Wind moves gentle in the deepest corners of night
Stepping on little souls to bless them with the magic of love
In the night. Stop. Stop.

Slowly going insane,
With the light all alive
Which I cannot see, but hear and feel
Right above towering. Wherever whatever I do
Hovering in front of a heart break
It will sleep.
Like yesterday, the time of chance I never had
Or of the laughter leading to lily ponds
Like revising this romance
Where end kills chances of I
Can’t you see it?
Red, in an open book
Seeing covered in fluid,
Let it live like on and on.

I watched love make me yesterday
Thrown round loops of hair
Of a curly haired man,
Sink round eyes of desire,
Moving them through the leaves,
Make jump over the moon
To a water of pleasure sincere.

Tired.

I am sun’s daughter and moon’s lover
I crave in the sun, sunk eat in the night-
I watch clouds move, making the moon
Laughing travel or trail,
By bushy trees make me veil look at you
Beautiful till tomorrow
It us a new world,
Where pleasure springs from the down,
And little fingers hop in all sides,
It is a real clever to watch meaner dies kill lie still:
Excellent life, it is so nice,
And themes are here, lost and never sell;
Which which which which eh, calls you
Strumming, waited for you all
I am surrounded nakedly
It is just the closet in your head is open
Excellent life, greater sin
Is take my hand,
Weary hand of mine, sweet child called Mine,
Very soon round you bitch leader suns of a pack
Called, eskelongriefe [it’s a long grief]
Vibrating phones set the tune,
Watching good doors behind you open
To know light must shut out,
And snakes will wither
And you will bleat the dream of
The little flaieries blowing in the wind.
Like life in a mystical flute.

2010 pointers.

today, i sat and listened to people. hard and long.
there was a man, another man and they were not united, they said.
we must find a secular tradition to stop all this bloodshed.
i slaughtered a hen yesterday in mind to eat nice chicken.
sensitivity to violence for mankind. humanism. dead.
ask, ask, i will enlighten. curiosity for solutions.
dialogue for answers, and discourse for me.
full stops work so well.

To the poet

dry, dry the ordinary
while observing the kite,
drawn by the wind-
your eyes flash,
and you note:
[eager, naturalist
and authentic as the green]
there is air,
around me,
and you.

feel it not to be alone.
he said.