Book 11

In Arden's forest Eden

weary from loveless labor

lost, leary, kin forsaken fools

wishing all to end well

staged to end as we like it

yet ever a comedy of error

Groping for the mystic

nonsense exitence mystery

hoping to discover

(mind ablank)

a reproducible reassuring pattern

of self substantiation and

existence extension

our barrel vaulted brains

hold the cure

just bring both barrels

to bear

giving shot to the dark

bearing in mind

as we bear our crypts

to have a care

the barrel's bottom

may be bare

I know you

must use your

badge of sorrows

now as a shield

to prorect the

emerging you

but when the

time comes and

you can believe

a little in yourself

uncover and let it fall

expose and toughen yourself

to life's sun

feel your feeelings

unlensed by

parents, childhood fears

imagined flaws and faults

betrayals and guilt

look smiling and unafraid

into your mirror

in the end there is

no relection

save from your own light

Igneous cumulus

indigo night negated

ebony edged

a prelude guilded by

the dawn's birthday delight

Aspen's appause

for autumn

summer's loss of leaf

falling away with

each shorter day

tipping the balance

toward lifeless

leaving the season grieving

in colorful disarray

unseeing I seek

with withering wrinkling cheek

fruitlessly for

the winter peach

desireable even with

pithy pulp and pit

a rasin 'd de etre

hung on low bough's

sapient limb

an unpruned plum

yet ever out of reason's reach

I want to be

where the sea

ceases and the

sky starts

departing from

heavy weather

into thin air

condensed and unclouded

I Land

The dog shaded

the rose silver of fog

at dawn

hounds the swans

once swift

now bound fast

in ice

quicker than flight

I have a sleeveless heart

divorced from wives unwilling

and faithless lovers leaving

but what has mended

was not unbroken

though sadly ended

and so unclothed

its tenderness tangled

by exposure

still it would not be loathed

to hear softly dsiclosed

fitting like a velvet glove

the word Love

There must be a

moment in spare time

since time dilation is possible

where the biological

the metaphysical and theoretical physics

can interact to make thought

electrically preservable and tranferrable

vesseled into spirits

warm bread

newly risen

buttered words spread

by pen to

open mouth

uttered bitten

written by the hand

holding the staff of life

Wii fear

not being the we

are key bored

techtarded, twittering

voiced only on our own

PC petard

Enamored of the

electric soma

ill teladvised by the

talking skulls hidden

behind their polished

facebooks

cell phonies

imprisoned by

email armor

mesmerized

byte by byte

by ringing distractions

RAMmed into memories

made small i's

by our Apples

Hey world hear

I'm here to rollick

my melody rolls over joy

and jumps at the

kick of heels up

and a kinder cup brimmed with

a hat full of rain

I feel, but

not pain

let's raise

sugared cane

and calliope

some happy

in jig time

March and dance

carol the zephyrs

clicking spring heels

carousing carrouseling

merrily going round a lay

The attractive grammar flattery

of floral magnets

causes Commas and Question Marks to

pause and inquire at their flowery pherome courts

where nectaring Monarchs and their sipping mimics,Viceroys

also wing applause

lured by nosegay hues and scent sentences

to become pupals

snug in the reinCarnation caskets

of the Chrysalis Palace

In the brain forest

thoughts leaf out

divining limbic branch to branch

synapses sway toward

every wet burst of dopamine lightening

in the daily sensory deluge

dendrites sort the detritus

brainstorming from the unformed

pooling information without a drop of senses

and with a flash of insight

making sense of every drop

Verbal validation

written authorization

auditory lauditory

bard regard

pundit plaudit

neolog ego

literally philostine

Why does this horrorshow

have a Spring?

while broken hands finger new buds

and flowers en mass green graves

who hates dew

whose rage is in a soft rain

how can steel invade flesh

when upshot blades are green

when the air is fresh for all

and the afterthought of winter

is ever warm

Madonna Maya

bird of paradise

cenote eyed

hip slung

young one burdened

of no thirst

playing in the dust

of toltec temple technology

a ruin in advanced decline

built of blooded stone

the runed calendars

predicting a long demise