It was not in the middle of life but at the end, or in
She entered barefoot dragging across from station to station of muffled voices clamoring to divulge a long guarded secret…
as she headed toward the horizon...
It is quite alright with me
that I will never again depart through the front door of this House.
All I ask is that I may visit every now and again
to touch and watch its flowers grow;
for my Truth has always been and will be as the rising and setting Sun!
THUS AS OUR THANKS
Ode to the many sweet dreams
That saunter on November chills
The children are gifts like smiles
The wash between sun and downy leaf
So falling bliss hits are the eyes...
Gravity leak on the nine sang the dronebot Tinker
Foreseer like the tentacles slurp on the unknown seed
And next the ghetto birds wail get out get out
But alas the chains spit when driving at the sun
Nova Child and Tealeaf make eyes like dragon wing
Yet the elders laugh when the Rainbows jettison
Again and again and again...
OH HAZEL NIGHT
Oh hazel night your street lamps dot the way
Until they vanish from my sight
And speak to the independence of a dawning day
The tickle drops they pass between two worlds
Between infinite tomorrow and yawns from yesterday...
THE TASTE OF THINGS PASSING
12 June 2007
wanton sense of coming to be
beyond the reach of any particular condition
tradition or absence of appetite
fulfilling a long-term mission
to break down barriers & to be
found in the knowing
to be something more than the known self... [Full Text]
It was a memory of memories persisting
a representation of devoted labor
the idiomatic spiritual partner of a tribe
history's eye placed equally forward & aft
it was guilt-laden full of meaning
time out of time & the whisper of so many
nevers tears recombinations & quietudes
the velvet-hewn patina of knowing
it was the narrow charge of being beyond being... [Keep reading...]
IRON & GLASS
The window to the soul?
Nothing more than glass.
Complete with chipped paint frame and dusty sill
It looks like any other
you have breathed on before.
And the gate to the soul?
Wrought iron posts
Fashioned with twists and a dull sharp point... [Keep reading...]
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER
I confess that at times I have sensed your presence
from behind the iris of eternity,
as you contemplate gleefully, implacably, like a muted Pan
the sacred union between shadow and light,
and not in starched hands that lift
a eucharist into the air;
rather in the faint wisp of winged DNA,
hanging in the air,
as a bird in silent flight,
before settling delicately on a stream ablaze in auroral light;
and not in the words of prophets sent by you,
false or otherwise... [Keep reading...]
YOUR FRAGILE SAIL
i want to ease my own fears that i have for you
and your daring venture into a world
you are not claiming scattered pieces of
but are coloring and leaving your prints
touching the boundaries and using your
fingers like a funnel of stories and making connections with those
whose textures have already left you a crag to cross over
with a feathered touch of intention and wonder and hope...
OF WINGS OF PATIENCE
Softening sonorous rumor
of wings of the patience
of large scavenger birds
in lemon-grey twilight
the vision of their converging
on one point in space
& musically dispersing
this strange familiar civic intrigue
a dance communicating
precisely where history will occur
this takes place within one
erasing all else & teaching...
LANGUAGES ENDANGERED WORLDWIDE
WORLD CULTURE NEWS FROM CASAVARIA'S SENTIDO PROJECT
As many as half of all known languages may die out during the next century. That figure is already staggering, but paired with the estimate of 6,800 believed to be spoken today, it represents a looming cultural catastrophe. In a world where languages with less than 10 million speakers are considered to be "minor" or "obscure" languages by many people, the world's native and regional languages are threatened. [Keep Reading]