~~FlowingOm~~

Life waits inside us
On the precipice of a metaphor
We are everything
We are nothing

Life dances around us
We are infinite blooms of perception
(These blooms await our trampling)
Porous and fecund
Hopelessly nearsighted
yet seeing far

Life lives in volition
our action
our stillness
our quiet
our song

blood and dreaming
orchid eyes of night
fire coral caress
burning burning bright

blood and fire
adrift upon the memory
all we will be
burning burning bright

dark shadow surrender
red tears and falling
calling what has lost us
burning burning bright

blood and spire
crumbling ghosts
misbegotten scenes
burning burning bright
amputated dreams

they never told me; that the
early morning birdsong
would leave me
falling across the skin
of the mountain; dreaming
the Sun’s first breath

I discovered early
I was allergic to clowns; as they were
larger than the TV images
of childhood;
on the back of a horse
amazing feats of freedom
salve of my childhood;
I discovered too late -
after I had traded
the race through the trees
to the serene fields
of apples and books
for the phosphorescent
rebirths in back seats
of cars; the torn dress
never quite
the woundless drumfire
of blatting winged hooves
on soil
oblique disciple of steeds
I discovered too late
I was allergic to clowns



photo credit: www.tomchambersphoto.com

isotropic nematic

echoing
from the center
liquid
crystal spheres
span distance
equilateral concentric
into space
substrata platitudes
spiraling
within nebulous matter
layers
inverse ambigrams
echoing

disconnected I flee
mundane torpedoes of sound
piercing fragility’s snake
winding itself through and through
my breath
trapped I am
this illusory throat

disconnected I am
this cacophony
of daily mechanisms
of barking dogs
screaming thoughts
at small innocents

disconnected I confess
mercurial seasons
a knot in the circadian rhythm
a small death with
disintegrating auditors
clamorously self indulgent

and this
now that the sounds have passed
means little
in the dance of wassailing silence

one last blackout for the day...


fecundity

life
composed

from dreams
unconscious

connections

woven
as they are

we see
a world
we make

life
expands

each friend
a possibility

throw dreams
into space

bring back
a new life
to love

everything
born
is planted in her

more blackout poetry……


blood fingered
branches anticipating
subtle vibratory substratum

everything we experience
energy

not simple expression
of the divine
but power

reality is dance
takes form as
body
thoughts
perceptions

the world
the idea
that absolute formless
also manifests
entities

sources of everything

understood personifications

our consciousness contemplating
vast impersonal paradox

born of archetypal energies
we all share

a murder of crows
behind my eyes

these dreams
take time
are deafening

cowed by
metaspheres
of emptiness

this implosion of screaming
artificial

flocks of procrastination
racing under head
and longing

Horizon
– Blackout Poetry

restless spirit
upon you
this warning

open your spheres

the sheer scope
may confound time

look upon these
as energized chance

immerse yourself

change

feel more

understand

avenues of Knowing
capable of aspiration

we choose
the horizon
we see

the infinite array

an open mind

empowered

to disappear
into the numerous before