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musings & scribbles

words are but masks of meaning

words are but
               masks of meaning
                             thrown off in mind,
as they are linger-shadows of thought!

be as the tree

be as the tree:
taking the carving of instance,
the ‘waste’ of breath,
and repurposing them to continue life.

these tears like pilgrims find way down mountains

these tears like pilgrims find way down mountains
down falls, down soil, down gutter, down tunnel, down until light becomes but illusion of mind
beyond these thoughts rests something more
something lingers there, untouched and touching, living and unalive,
something lingers there, ever lingering, ever stationed in its revolutions
something lingers there, something beyond the senses, beyond the nose
beyond the crossing of the eyes,
beyond the needle, beyond the spoon, beyond the spliff, beyond the blunt,
beyond the snort,
beyond the finger,
while being behind as well

she is smile

                  she
              is smile
    in gentle rest of light
  oh, to be her shadow
her watchermate

to taste the tips of falling valleys

to taste the tips of falling valleys,
the ridges, the cliffs, the pits of your fingerprints;
to map with mind your outline
through tongue’s lashing/
hands finding
curve in wander of your world,
your skin,
your prickled hairs goosen’d
and uplifted in
their quest, their raised longing for,
their worship toward
these hands, these lips,
all, in servitude, now yours

i can feel these nerves burning

feel these nerves burning,
the tips of your memories receding
from hand:into thought:into breath: from lips and:gone..
returning:they find path to cage of lung:within tongue’s wall:to
hand; in grasp unclenched,
these, your seeds uprooted now,
lay dying on suture’d paper

to wake this walk-n-wandering world

to wake
    this walk-n-wandering world
                                     from dream
                                        unseen
                                                  by most..

to find perfection through imperfections, uniquities, form,

to find perfection through imperfections, uniquities, form,
rather than..
immitations and.. moldings..
or,
perhaps,
perfection is not sought at all,
as though
perfection
were delinked and thrown from under beauty’s shadow,
to be cast as faux-demon in play of aniols..

you falling

i wish
         to
 c
  a
    t
     c
       h her
  f
   a
     l
      ling

how reach of mind,

how reach of mind,

                singe’d on thought,

                               reaches for lids,

                                           for eyes,

                                           for brow’n’cheek,

                                           for overflowen’d reservoir untouched:for throat,

                                                                                                 for breath,

                                                                                                 for words,

                                                                                                 for lung,

                                                                                                 for air upon wide-mouth gasping

oh, to trouth in bend of eyes,

                              to dampen these flamen’d roots grown inward

                                                                                       in heat of skin

                                                                                                  and all those ash’ed-streams

                                                                                                                      a’burn left raging

musings & scribbles