to the Teachers

All are brilliant..
            have the potential to be brilliant
perhaps through the physical,
perhaps through the mental,
perhaps through kindness,
or perhaps
through life.
If, perchance, one is not knowing of one’s brilliance,
            perchance, see one’s brilliance as life
                        and how one joys life.

upon all everything

life is beyond religions..
yet life is religions..

to live,
to act,
to think,
to behave,
to die,
to be
within constant questioning of the effects of your actions
upon all everything..
but do not take the weight of constant questioning
as though it is a must..
take the weight of constant questioning
as thought it is a way of expressing
of knowing your expressions
your motives, your being, yourself
do not
dwell
on the negative
forgive yourself if you are deserving
you may take these words as a reasoning for hurt or suffering
but know that they are not
they are but words
but thoughts
but meanings masked in language–
it is in you
this meaning is

watched a leaf fall yesterday

i watched a leaf fall yesterday,
flutter-find its way to ground as though these eyes were puppeteer drunk in amusement;
upon its resting, i stared,
finding leaf’s path to be unseen in air yet
there in thought, in motion of eye,
as though these thoughts were but mirrored movement
empty yet over-filling resevoir ’til snap!,
these words, like leaf, lie in rest of purpose
without tale

upon this empty page my heart fills the corners

upon this empty page my heart fills the corners
as though a thousand words shoot through these fingers
click click click
click click click
tap tap tap
tap tap tap
tap tap tap
just go just go just go
just keep this rhythm let me see it
let me feel it
let me hold on long enough
to see your face at the end of this rope of thought
let me hold you let me
let me let me
let me find these words unsaid and lagging

chop

my click-clack, white-black friend swirls in thought,
nudging wrist with paw, with nose, with belly and
ears tap-wagging to blink-red of eye..
hah! how you mock these words
as though never matching of you they could be;
waddle your way ‘cross top of desk
and find my thoughts still,
my motor-driven, parrot friend!

crease of lips grown loud in smile

you:
crease of lips grown loud in smile,
wing’ed light of breeze in still,
thief of thought forgiven and forgiving more;
fall to me,
laugh to me,
be with me;
may these hands be but lovers of your skin,
may these lips be but strummings of your breath,
may these words be but servants of your energy..

the blink of this curser

the blink of this curser tags my thoughts
as though incomplete
yet
i want to stop
but
still this blinking
rages within me
rages
along the screen
dancing with these words in push of thought
yet
i want to stop
but
still this blinking curser finds my fingers to be in pause, alone,
‘less full this barred curser remains

every word every breath

every word
every word
 
every breath
every breath
 
lands lightly
                 on your ear;
 
oh,
     for every word,
     for every breath
     to be placed upon
                              your ‘lobes
                                             in rest of lips;
 
oh,
     for every
                 word,
     for every breath
     to fall ‘long your thoughts,
                                          to lay as in the softened grass
                                                                                     grown silk;
 
oh,
    for every word,
    for every
                 breath
    to be as brushing of the skin,
                                       your pulse’s rhythm:but a mirror of our longing..

lonely breathing

8]

you walked along these halls,
a night in mind;
you knocked down these photographs,
hoping to replace every one with
yours and
with mine;
you left the windows open,
spilling the forgotten dreams
you shed like leaves
all along
this over-lackered hallway–
only after
i realized
i never saw your lips fain happiness–
and now is too late–
the clock’s hands
cover our only window;
perhaps you could
inhale,
inhale,
exhale
the words you know
belong to me;
perhaps you could
breathe
to break this silence
and
can you
hold that knife closer,
through our hands/into
our chests and fix our falling
so a second passes
and daylight can be seen
while i am rooted
and you are the breeze
making love to me.