Lately

Overly stimulated. I’ve been reading too much and extending way too far. Spring is taunting me. Learning about, writing about dogs, 1846 California History, behavior modification, religious studies, Las Vegas entertainment, Mardi Gras, politics, food, poetry, contemporary art, folk art, programs, galleries, policies and procedures, heirloom seeds, Gold Rush, Magellan, bankruptcy, running multiple small businesses, fashion, college preparation for all ages, marble houses, nonsense. I feel the pull of temptation to ride on the spring blossoms drifting overhead. My heart is racing and I can’t stop it.

Lush

Egzell awoke in the recess of a large looming oak. The sun was just breaking over the ridge. As he rubbed the sleep from his three waking eyes, a botanical wonderland unfolded down the hillside. A garden untouched by Monsanto. Egzell rolled with ecstasy amongst the heavenly greens.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/93622169/egzell-alien-bear

I’m Easy

I’m a sucker for stars

and moonlight

and crashing ocean waves

iced mint tea

boats

mountains and valleys

thunderstorms

perfectly ripe avocados

hot sake

blood orange sorbet

hot springs in the desert

and some other stuff too

I’m ridiculously easy

Thank you Poverty and Failure

How good the hunger

when the groceries are at a further horizon

the making of something from nothing

becomes a remarkable mastery

cultivated from birth

poor in money is inconsequential

given the relief

of time and gratitude

and ever present love

 

Sleepy

I’m so tired that I can’t worry about much of anything which is just fine. The world is full of sunshiny blossoms, the dog pants for more exercise, art opening tonight, a goodbye to my sister.

Umbilicus

She said it would require surgery

this pulling apart of the belly button

that stubby leftover

of corded lifeline to mother

it was carried a long while

before the fissure began

before the insides started to push out

and I saw us all like this

coming apart at the seams

that some sterile white rooms

with cold instrumentation

were waiting for us

to recap that umbilicus

that we might find

placental omnipotence

once more

Feeding

The first consideration is the fabric of the soul

what is it made of?

Is it mossy; glassy?

Observe the breath

the subtle flare of nostrils in pine

at lakeside

or amid the fevered nights

sweat and hunger pulsing with light

watch the eyes and lips

are they tentative; animalistic?

The first bite starts long before the plate

the scent of raw fresh earth

Is the mouth alive?

a flickering pleasure dome

these are the ones to feed

count first the auric layers

burn the skins from fiery peppers

simmer smoky lentils

is it layered complexities, that wine?

that salted spray of mineral sky

tender bloody meat

a perfect peach or mango

the symphony of buttered artichoke hearts

on the tongue

dream the body first

its every corpuscle

its every nerve

it must resemble substance

to enter the realm

of concentrated feeding

where the very essence of earth and sky

join the feast

and surrender

 

Falling Down

Sometimes it happens, we fall. It was brought to my attention that my daughter is a good friend. As evidence of this, she stops if someone falls, waits for them, asks if they need help up. Simple. It got me thinking about more falls, mine and others. There have been times that I felt helped up and times I felt left behind, that happens too. And then I thought about ways that we conceal our knowledge that someone has fallen. Maybe we are embarrassed or don’t want to be bothered. But maybe all we really need is to wait, to let it be known that we are there. And when we are the fallen, get up and shake the dust off.

Spring

This day dusted with a syrupy Utopian bliss punch. Blossoms explode. All that was sleeping bursts open. Senses dance with crisp clarity. Indoors is no place to be.

The Past

Dropping off

an uncoiled arousal

wrapped in ferns, mushrooms, damp earth

The things fingers try and grasp

How many nights at counting stars

slipped away then

a jug of wine grown dusty and corked

how they fall with the rest

the you and me

the dreamy “if”

And we’ll try and leave the past

sodden and rent

drowned down by the river

never looking back