PANIC!

March 23, 2013

manic street car
voice inside flashed
HUNDRED THOUSAND MILLION BIGGS! 

It Could Easily Have Been an Elegiac Summer

March 21, 2013

in the throes of summer
when sweat naturally rolls off my brow

as it does
a smoldering gust of
reflective thought gets absorbed
in a succulent daydream to allay my fears
for April and May

 

Leaves Of A Sublime Spark

March 21, 2013

an ebony butterfly
resting on top of
National Liberation
Ulyanov Sky

is lost

she carries the deepest of disengaged
silences that stirs in me feelings of
a blissful balance when all of a sudden
her outline sheds to mature

into a sublime song of visceral moment

(for master Chogyam Trungpa , for master Yoda , for master Gary Snyder)

Sisyphus

March 21, 2013

Sun

the galactic eye
the cosmic vision
the immortal child of golden eternity
the mighty burning mastodon : half phoenix half deity
the temporal axis of outsider paradise
the destined fire
the infinite parallax

behind
She Universe Nakedness
artifice between another day and death
nudity a ploy to save herself
from turning into the black of darkness
in the charred remains of nothingness in ash

and so she seeks refuge in
the vagueness of night fall
seeks secret love in the discreet
virility of the Moon

the albeit
the diminished power
the soft radiant glow
the here on in arch lover
the non violent
the mystic kin
the magnificent balm
the elixir dope
the inferno smoke
the creamy haze
her shade away from the
the fire that almost burned her
earlier in the day when there shone

a,
Sisyphian Rage bent towards
an insensitive forever
who will not listen

Hymn

March 19, 2013

billion genius
made man
tucked in one
luminous organic
celesta is an utter
proof of

god ?

Truth Cookout Absolutely The Desolate

March 19, 2013

I am not real 
I am not real
I am not real
I am not real
I am not real

equally unreal my maker
is this world whose rustic juice
flows through me like eternity 
empty sea of luscious silence
_______________________
ancient
plush
original
albino light. 

Goya

March 18, 2013

holy cows bull shit chewing
green grass orbital vitamins
pouring out of mouths full
with forlorn constricted
diaginas of astral emptiness
in moo the biff

heading towards, Xisco Franc
for prepositions of time

(For Karl of Goya and the Goya in Karl : nestle deep in your sea, fish and boat)

 

 

 

If A Fuck You Has Lips

March 18, 2013

blind mouth

one that is
eternally unsatisfied 
with the noises of outside
ends with the rebuke of 
burnt skin in green vortexes 
of infernal courage
while it flees
hidden geometries in ambient beings
of commonplace things like
lumpen
confrontational stairways 
suspended mid air

cradled by 
stormy multitudes 
of weary bile
after a patois meal
 
of fisch and bonnes

(for The Happy Birthday of Jack Kerouac)

Day X of Beliefs and Questions

March 13, 2013

simmering poetry bounces off
sultry walls of wide open water
that stands raised on a mound of ebbing bodies
one on top of another each riding a low tide
hurrying out to sea far beyond vision or dusk
traumatic visions of separation
visions of dusk, tell me this
can one tame the growl

of tense skin on a succinct lake
wedged between house and master ?

Elves of sleep in deep space cackling away Intelligence

February 26, 2013

of.

being a stranger among strangers
tender diet fullness of stomach
buddy rich left hand technique
of right hand maniacal showers
beatific snanas searing cold white
water sucking out the negativity that
possesses lost city souls of job education data
capricious bandits of indexed satisfaction
unoriginal unkindness of devotees
success empires speaking
an encrypted fraudulent dialect

of dispossession

many together in place
makes it a menagerie of unkindness
whispering the last few breaths of curiosity
they had in them before falling prey
to living death in the empty abyss of
routine pain dark surreal bugs
of trauma spewing many poisons

of servitude.

this is still pleasantly anonymous
cold and far from the murders of
heat in a rotting city where letters
am told await my return to a flat
which my particular big meat
will never want to open.

( for the lasting legacy of Binoy Majumdar : avant garde hero of unsung silence )