a list; what we were meant for...

pros:

we were meant for apple seed,

and cherry blossom tea.

we were meant for orange rinds,

and yellow squash flowers.

we were meant for apricots, tangerines,

berries, and tea leaves.

we were meant for lemon fruit,

nut trees, and bitter barks.

we were meant for green leaves,

sunflower seeds, mint, barley, and parsley.

we were meant for green fields, tall grasses,

un kept weeds, flower stalks larger than houses.

cons:

we were not meant for destructive forests,

carbon monoxide, yellow grass, unhappy cows.

we were not meant for farms that breed

dying, infested, bacteria rich food.

we were not meant for the post traumatic

world war syndromes.

we were not meant for the battlefields,

the memory wounds, the need to fight.

we were not meant for the crawling,

running out of time, creating energy filled with greed.

The Piano

The piano whispers,

a voice crackles, black static.

The ballerina dances on harp strings,

resonating a shadow, a candle in the wind.

why i don't do chores.

i place a pile of clothes from my chair, to the bed, too lazy to put them in proper order, put them in the closet, on a shelf, underneath ceiling lights, in drawers, i'd rather put them aside, leave them for another day, a time when i am uninspired, leave them for a time when i don't want to sit with the silence. leave them for my mother to find. leave them for my taurus rising and virgo moon to notice. leave them with my electric bill. leave them on my 'to do' pile of things i'll never do. i'd rather... be sipping my overly fragrant breakfast tea, reading emails, thinking of pictures in my head, of why the things in my life haven't worked, or whom i'll be sharing my tea with tomorrow. it is morning again! another chance of not letting the sun shine in my room. another chance at breaking the memory patterns. another chance at swallowing air. oh the air! i think of memories, i don't think of scales, or calenders, or doing things in their right order. i think of glassy stars floating below my ceiling, and how the light hits the room forming rainbows. i think of far away worlds from this one. i think of creation, and the process of undoing. that is why i have no interest in vacuums, it is only when i want to hear their noise that i enjoy them. that is why i leave my floor filled with glitter and paste, gems and sea shell jewelry. that is why i don't do dishes, and i read poetry about immigrants.

The Archeology of Our Life.

I.
we place bones
to retract history.

we write poems on napkins,
and fake french- k i s s.

our maps arrive continents apart,
how your x ended with my ice age.

and we draw lines from skull to skull,
as if one protruding bone equals a rib?

how my jaw seems listless without teeth,
and your enlarged cranium dating back 1.4 billion years.

who said jesus was a specie,
a specimen of g-d ?

men use anthropology to preach rage,
and long haired spiritual nuns sing the Bhagavad Gita.

in the forest tombs, men dig their hands,
retrace steps, were we here?

we place bones, homo-erectus to homo-humainoid,
all brains - one mouth connecting, acheulean technology.

the fossil sites gave us clues to our rite,
the white architecture of our ancestor.


II.
the black hole to the volcano stone,
the imprint of hieroglyphs on cats.

i want to go where the mammoths go,
roam the tusks of pure pearl.

i want to hunt in the berry blossoms,
collect fruit for our tea.

we will leach the acid, lead, mine
the sacrum to the spine.

bind the head to the saw stone,
count the teeth on a mauer,

measure the distance of jaw imprint,
alternate x-rays for geology,

the zoo will be our breeding ground,
will you meet me there upon arrival?

the energy of g-d; in his name.

little hands,
stucco,
the energy of g-d.

grace the birds,
all windows seeped with steam,
foam,
words.

7129342,
finding the names of his, divine,
until all combinations
1 8 0 , 2211211, 0.00662
equal his name.

or all forms equal values to large
to distribute,

but you say,
you'll buy my a texas instrument

so we can input data,
formulate on print,

discover Egypt again,
roam the Sirius A or B galaxy,

jump off the milky way,
unto our descent from Rome,

into the Eckasha,
I will follow you

to the silver cord,
into infinite beginnings,

where your hominid winged lion roar.

en-joy; in vitro, viva la heart.

i want to enjoy us,
we are still young,
hidden in the heart,
young yearning of expression,
young joy,
young wounds that are already healing.

i want to know you
as you are
in your birth,
before you grow

to smart for my words.

i want to nurture you
with a breast
and a plate of honey,
lemongrass, perhaps poppy seeds.

i want to remember growing
u
p- words, expanding,
how little i knew,
how fast the future flew

innocent fragrance into playing,

castles in the rain.

i want to backwards my wisdom,
and come home with idiocy.

i want to play with your sun fire,
and cast fiery orange rainbows into your homage.

i want to dance the bad wind away,
and inside fire, dress you up with water.

but,
you are brilliant with your passive lights
shining distant mirrors to the cold sirens/

you live your heart freely in expression,
i wish my tea uttered the same silence/

sputtered by the wings,
your lips are admired,
slivers of golden mane,
how those delicate bandaged cuts
remind me of how
your love
casts me ~
free

lotus in the rain.

you imagine a jewel rippled across the sky,

you imagine my name painted in dark acrylic oil,

you imagine love blind, gentle, and sweet/

you dream in colors,

you dream in jade.

i picture tall buildings and sky rises.

i picture silhouettes, women of gangs,

i picture long legs and tv screens blistered by the night blue,

i imagine your memory tattoos,

i imagine our hands colliding.

i see future in the blasphemy,

pink silver moon.

we lay colorless by the waves,

impressions of a soft violet light,

like mother of pearl on sand,

against the crystal glow of oceans,

far away on distant ships,

across one dimensional galaxies

maps,

we gather,

across a crown of thorns,

in the eden bushel,

playing with the victory,

playing with the fire.