I feel the realness of an earth unfolding
Steam rises into bright white sky
And sweat beads and drips down my back –
off my nose.
The hands stuck, sinking
Getting closer to the moist dust of the universe
The muck of the mess we’ve left behind.
But, with eyes closed,
I can only see your caring face.
Shin deep you pull me up
and out of soggy life’s bottom
Hands freed, I hold you
touching neck and waist
beads of steam reflect off your wild hair
wind blows away and away and away
And together with wishes
Hoping for an end of the epoch of mud
the clouds float over uncaring.
There may be rain at some point,
smiling. stained. breathing.
And wondered where the rats,
the ones with antenna in their ears,
I wondered where the rats were.
Then walk on down to Pepe’s Opera,
mesmerized by the burning idols,
and I jumped through the fire –
Jumped through the wall of fire.
And then stood on the counter
staring at the orphaned mountain,
burning light night sky,
flames dancing through trees.
Motions past and touches present
Hand firmly on your hip
feeling the dreams
of gas cans and siphon hoses.
Tasting bitterness and heat,
remembering your hair,
touching my cheek,
and I touched your hair.
Thinking again of slices
shifting in where rats take calls
and only finding rattled bones
once overgrown by kudzu.
i had a dream this morning
a mermaid swam to me out of sunrise colors
and caressed my body
she kissed my lips
delicate like a light sea breeze
a string of blue clouds fell across my eyes
and the mermaid swam away
only to come back
more embraces and more kisses
her hands pressed and squeezed
her nose smelled
remembering my scent
the curves of my body
i rolled over into floating white sheeted pools
and like the sunrise colors
the wavy haired vision
disappeared in the waking morning
over concrete, past wood
marked with paint, foot prints, spit, and history
faded and worn
renewed and re-crossed
steps where love was found
lost and sworn away from
ghosts pass by
voices for an infinite layer
where tongues touched
and yells vibrate across the wires
of this city
forever moving forward
getting torn up
and hung to dry…..
as sleep overcomes the majority
and the football game is fading
of last season
the sidewalks tell stories –
it is written for the ages!
As Easter Sunday winds down, I find myself browsing other sites in order to figure out what to do for today’s entry. I briefly contemplated throwing a photo up on here and calling it a day. Yet, alas, nothing is sticking at the top of my internal feed enough to go “yes, that’s what I’ll put on today’s blog. I really don’t want to talk about politics. I don’t even want to strain my brain enough to write a journalistic type of entry. Yesterday’s entry was fun as I recounted the day’s activities. Kind of like a real old fashioned journal entry.
Easter Sunday: Went to 4B and met ED and his parents. They had 7 more people for the tour. We had a great time on the walk and ended short at 22nd St. Slice of pie at Escape from NY and off to CELL to meet S and help him get spraying on his mural. AG and B were at CELL and we met up at Dolores to be on the fringe and end of Hunky Jesus. Ran into C and MC and some guys from the Southeastern USA I know. Met up with I and we walked to Mission Bowling Works to have a drink. Overpriced food but nice Andrew Scholtz painting at the end of the lanes. No desire to bowl and feel hip retro. Up to Divis and ate Thai. Ran into M from MG and surprised to see him back in SF. Walked to gas station and had a fresh Krispie Kreme. Then home to more Hunger Games and chill after two days of lots of walking.
Yeah…. I like the journal entries. Maybe I’ll feel more wordy soon. For now…. eat chocolate for good times…. Continue reading “Alas… To Blog”
Saturday morning emptiness
Hop on the F Train at 17th
an open space to dry off in
and empty like the sidewalks and soaked streets.
Walk around and contemplate the chill,
imagining the strangers sitting next to me
packed in down at the Piers.
It is just me and the driver
and open window at the back
letting rain drip in
down the hill in minutes.
so I head to Trieste for decaf
slip and fall on the sidewalk
and end up OK, just a bit wetter.
At the cafe, watching other trains pass
not empty like my special ride.
Eyes open, body moving
But not all awake
Adjusting to the brightness and colors of the universe,
The touch of the cold air, and the sounds of morning stillness
I pause and watch the white sky reflect hidden sun.
That moment happens,
like a crescendo of notes,
when all colors are vivid with light.
My eyes and the sun have played a magical dance
and held hands to dance that quick sliver of time –
when dawn turns to day
and I fully wake to my breath.
I make a mug of mint tea.
Green trees hover over white sky.
Songbird sings me into my home.
Restive kitty meows her way out!
Sky tucked under white blanket.
Pattering rain breaks quiet.
Too wet for the hens to play!
in my heart, i see a future where borders will turn into mist, cultures will mix like pigment, and you and I will laugh about the absurd history of nations while sipping black tea in a cafe
The economy of words makes one a master of understatement.
Trees look up to me down in Panhandle puddles.