Saturday, February 28, 2015

Where'd you go my Island
child
(Remember when I told you
we lived in ancient rome)

They probably created a goddess
for you


Friday, February 27, 2015

The poet is someone
who has lost her way
in the forest and
hacks her own
Athenian path

(she grows her own trail,
grooms her own mountains
to grow strong and tall
she makes the ground fertile
with her own bodily fluids

so trees can grow as her
pets)

This stargazing wild poet-woman
cannot be owned
does not bow to any state's laws

She is beyond even her own
wisdom

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Things only me and
her and the mountains know

(he just utilizes everything
to let his poetry flow)

Dreams of the images
she instigated in his
mythological mind

Absentia of the narrative
her magic is only reflective

simulacra of
poetica

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Athena Little Feathers

With your wolf
spirit

And your mother's
heart

And your father's thunder
I will love you

And  make your children
prosper in these
beatific
mountains

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Someone to be
Shamanastic with

(Remember the times
we didn't spend together)

The life we wished upon
(nights we slipped under the
charms of spells
dancing around images
of spirits we saw rising
beyond ourselves)

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Yes it's true I led
my horses through
that winding mountain pass
with a little stream burbling
down its rocky crags

and it did indeed whisper your
name to me
and the crow crawed it
even louder

and that same great black
creature followed me down into
the plains,
all the long bitter way

until it landed in a sunlit prairie
and I'll be dammed if
that weren't the perfect
place to make
camp,

and if other wild horses didn't
come and join mine,
and in the spring I planted crops

and all the long while I have prospered


I don't know
if I'm some kinda
cowboy
trucker
philosopher

Riding through this
Western
world

Sunday, February 15, 2015

This space between the
stars was written
for me to make poetry
to you

You think my dreams
have changed or
I am not the same

One who burned
past death for you
(yeah I lit some death
burner stoves
for you)

Risked the machines and
my bones and threw
stones at my own mind
to be mountain quiet
in snow silence

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

BLISS WITHOUT FEAR

I know you were just a kid
from the mean dirty streets
of NYC that are so far away
now

And you rode the wild horse
to the brink of death
and then you found

The one with the full moon in
his eyes and you lit all our
fires with the marathon
shape-shifters

(We met in the Laurentians
two tigers shoulder to shoulder)

I danced until the stars blurred
and the worlds opened

Karma rose like sacred fluid of
light through the tree branches of my
being and shot through the
stratosphere

(later the girls took me back to
Montreal and everything
could never be the
same)


~peace out Veeresh, mighty light warrior and traveler of the stars: see you in the next world brother!

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Traces of us
(white horses running)

So yeah, the wolves
are my friends now

eagles visit me in dreams

(We had a starship once
so much better than any
painting of the master's

I held you in my
arms)
I can love you
From a million miles
away

I don't have to
write poetry

Mountan/prairie silence
run
With wolves

(Eagle totem
Return)

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

So we reached from the stone age
evolving to the point of us
A time our ancestors prayed for

(simply for you to
show up at my door
with tiger lilies)

Monday, February 2, 2015

Reading Allen Ginsburg,
from a camper trailer
On the prairie
of Montana

Listening to Country
Music
On an old radio

He was talking about
a bleary beautiful Kerouac
and the railroad

and the Mystic Visions
of the original hipsters
crazed and broken

Roaming America