Friday, September 30, 2011

S.B.T. 325


"well we were cooolzzzville..."




he this man, this apebeast evening, will choose

a patch of burlap fray to shine a piece of carbon

til its brighter than the day

the rainbow prickly colorpool lay waiting -


delightful, she said wickedly, as hard as lard

and stone

the pillar of consistency, ionical on loan

her feathers slickt on suet

no matter how they tried,

lovedripping pearls were sewn and twirled

around her wristband hide


all the elastics in hurtsville snapped

that apebeast evening

when one hand clapped


enlightenments not easy

language comes off cheesy

compared to what is shone

in the marrow of the bone





Monday, September 19, 2011

S.B.T. 324


get the cans out




yes, i remember the night

it was chilly that evening,

i had a blanket over me

like a tent, in the dark

watching twilight zone repeats


a shadow thru the filtered light

descended, scalloped

shape

inverted

unmistakeable

webbed

pattern



oh no


a bat



WW 'o' WW






Saturday, September 17, 2011

S.B.T. 323



kinematic questions




how can i deliquesce of myself?

what ransacked rubble translates to unsling what is prejudged to be?

am i missing? the portal to cascade books?

the counter to crouch morroccan-style at a declassified table?


(what's my sabbatical for backstroking to defend my ness and garnished habits?

if it's to carry better, will it codify algorithmic klaxons to habilitate love?

am i on a horizon of circumnavigating carouses or of magnetizing furls?

institutionalizing a concensusing job

reenforced out of a fungicidal relationship?)


do i solicitate oklahoman or the mustang that gallup with success?

could i resound hypersexual as an adventure?

if i was on a waul of hardening urina or of defrocking menaces

in order to haggle better, will it feel troutier with hebrew to budge?


which mistimed token label from repopulating scoops of the past

is the shaker (or obstacle) exhibiting?

if so, which sensitivity will i list it in this time?

when i'm instigated to tether the godhood track,

what nuthatch do i trot to myself,

or macaw with the snoutier plan?

how can i recontract in savours?

ask a baiter to be a typhoon buddy? join an overstaying club?

what am i bushelling in my elder thats gravitating letting twist weal with miaou?

what batchers of telly should i disregard to haft whole?

if u r shoed be happy?












one mans tree

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

S.B.T. 322



has the stolen angel been found?








i have a website, not www tho accessible from www, not searchable cuz its just not because its not www - its there nonetheless, at dot mac which is a separate universe with images of my artwork by invitation only, which i know incrementally can leach out nonetheless it affords a thin shield of intelligenuflect protection as it is reworked and aimed at targets often enough...


there, is an angel, this angel

..................................................v



backstep one moment

i designed a logo/banner for a healing arts website. a lightworker sic, heart point,

etc


ok maybe i'm too picky

but the theory goes that the energy you put out attracts like energy. thats a theme across the nonboard.


i immediately realized it was me. and i stole something. once. a long time ago, after school, age 12. a tiny bottle of 'evening in paris' perfume. which i stared at in my hand, opened it and sniffed and finally headdown feet of brick went and returned it because just looking at it made me feel sick. and it didnt smell that great either. pathetic, eh but thats how i was trained early on. i wasnt threatened with lakes of fire or anything, just the idea that you have to live with yourself if you knowingly do something that isnt 'good'. on any level stealing was not 'good'. no excuses. its just not good, get it? basic. sure sure mitigating circumstances, however, still not good. and if you dont care about good then join the narciss sissy isms on parade and get outta my face i have a job to do - uh thats probably not good either


back to the logo banner design. upon completion my benefactor suggested adding a link to my private website. hmmmm i thought ok, probably not likely to start a stampede thru the link, and maybe, it will bring business ok i'll try it. ok i said.


admittedly it ran thru my mind that the people who gather as lightworkers wont be thieves, not likely they will misuse, and they'd like some of the work no doubt. because these are lightbeings after all. however i learned backwards that they may be a target market...


in a phone chat my benefactor asked if i'd been contacted by the angel lightworker named L. no, i said, who is L? well, shes an angel practitioner who went to the link and liked your angel and was able to download it and put it on her website. i told her she needed to ask your permission and gave her your contact info. "she stole my angel?" i gasped, thinking of evening in paris and karma, but i brought the perfume back i realized so it isnt me. aha! the other night i put a coupon for one dollar twenty five on some cat food and it minused twelve dollars and sixtynine cents! did i run to the store manager? no, i was doing the selfcheckout. aha! small bad things. she stole my angel.


all right, its bigger than twelve dollars and sixtynine cents. the angel is worth a lot more. but it doesnt matter. small bads weigh the same as large ones.


nonetheless i fumed and demanded the perpetrators address. which my benefactor didnt have on hand ahem. perhaps its a "thank god for unanswered prayers" thing. perhaps its a conspiracy. perhaps my benefactor and L are manufacturing my angel on lampshades in taiwan. because ten years ago i worked for a company that manufactured offshore a serious patriotic no-no!

but still well-matched by copyright infringement. sigh.


footnote: credit for the source of the stolen angel, L. banishment otherwise

in the meantime, i'll be writing a story



Monday, September 12, 2011

S.B.T. 321



"if i had a hammer, i'd hammer in the mo or ning"

hurry if there is something you can do

"...when the lord gets ready, you gotta move"

the song of the morning presses in


fog over the chugging tugboat outspirational

serpentine red flags above the coach twisting twirling

diffused in light, dissolution glow

warbling crickets


beginning with the most flagrant selftalk

and ending with sword in stone concrete memories


these words spill into silence

the churbling of a thrush and skycall of

canadian geese


Friday, September 9, 2011

S.B.T. 320

in the sand



close touch all calm

beating endless ness

little body upright

walking in the sand


no cloud can stir

this changelessness

blank sheer clear

dream the passing

hour of figment light

that never was always is

all gone from mind

on all sides of earth and

sky at long last issueless

all sides endless true refuge

scattered down four walls

over backwards no sound



Tuesday, September 6, 2011