thought may be but revolution

thought may be but revolution centered on known knowledge
   while reaching toward knowledge not yet contemplated:

                                                                                               through contemplation on what is shall arise what is not
                                                                                               through contemplation on what is not shall arise what is

perhaps through thought’s revolutions the possibility arises of detachment from anchor’d weight of body:
 skin’s perceptions, eye’s perceptions, ear’s perceptions–
    all perceptions of the body become detached,
       and so detached is Thought itself–
 as multitudes of perception become wound together,
    solitary perception arises,
       floating as on stream of This Life;
          as flows this solitary perception,
             distance may chance to be
                and through distance the solitary perception continues as on stream,
                   falling as through translucent horizon–
                      though the solitary perception seems beyond the barrier of This World and This Life,
                         the solitary perception is still Present–
                            it is through great dettachment and great distance
                               that perhaps the solitary perception resurrects
                                  as though from nothing: perhaps anchor’d hold is given slack
                                     or merely overlooked is the constant existence of the solitary perception–
                                        for this, keep the distance constant, or increasing,
                                           so as to be aware of the solitary perception
                                              while leaving the solitary perception…
                                              : for, once stepping from womb,
                                                what benefit lies in dismissing womb as though nonexistent?
                                              : though through great meditation and being [not yet known by author]
                                                may these attachments of perception be known:
                                                as though they water run from cloud to unpored skin to earth to existence ever-cycling…

from palm a penny fell

from palm a penny fell,
               tumbling
                              down
                                       air;
                                            face,
                                                    tail,
                                            face,
                                                    tail,
                                            face,
                                                    tail
               to smash in wade with waves unflinching
                     ‘gainst your wall of rounded cinder

out came the tide from her swollen eyes

out came the tide from her swollen eyes
                                                                        and there i was,
        hand over pride to break the surf
        and i just kept telling myself
                      "she’ll forgive me sometime;
                       she’ll close her eyes sometime
                                                                        and dream of someone else."

old man e

old man e

i had

walked out to the car

to know the world for a few minutes.

push-laying next to old man e,

i noticed him standing at his pillow;

a look of frustration as he cocked his chin

toward every place he frequents,

looking for the biscuit i had given him

hours earlier–

he likes them

only if he has no other offer

of bacon’d treats.

in the kitchen,

his small grunt-growls ordered me

“give beggin strips.”

–yeah, i did.

had to.

jealous universe

i look up

and see that you

silent-stand

on top of world

as stars shoot-fall..

as worlds slide

along the universe

’round your eyes–

i see their jealousy

for you are still

and they are dying–

for you are constant

and they must be changing.

i peer out

across water

of oceans from your toe-tips

and see you shining,

leading islands

in dance of midnight;

’round your eyes

they twink in merryment–

into my own eyes, now, i look

and see

you

standing

above world

beyond edge of ‘rizon’s reach

and i cry

,knowing you are seeing me

as i am seeing you.