Tag Archives: fire

Castles Burning in the Sky

16 Jul

Crazy colors,
across the courtyard,
temporal mirrors
full of rusty murmurs,
and futility. Under a
brilliant light on
a tall pole clever
smoke intoxication
keeps you going.

A ride in back-
deeper penetration
curtain spark flesh
nimble moons in
darkness between
warm wet play. Taste
flower blossom garden
green dreams nodding
mutely. Stars bring the
black fieldsky to life
above night castles-
spaces left open
waiting for a response.
Lace under fingers
falling to dust.

Clear wonderful
scrolling lines
and curves make
us think we are
not caged- shifting
light cascades-
a soft radiance
of fire arouses
falling flute
breath- beautiful
skin fire
ablaze like
dream castles
set aflame by
your breath,
and in your
brain first
burning snow
bonfire hearts


Stormlost Machinemind Sunsky

28 Jun

My common sense in those portions which
were already running like analogies-
now as if by chance- my watch, gradual
sins, and in some cases perhaps great
shadows full of thankfulness flashing
like neon nightborn Gods for a time.

A notion occurred to me that a
presence was following me. Do you
see the gulf that sun will
eventually fall? Year after year
flashed between the two minutes
as the sun ceased to be at the
foot of the mountain, and the
leg of the parts ring with blood
red bands. These circles enveloped
tigermen heated by the lifting of
a great wisdom learned from
those wild and fantastic forces
that make the Gods-
appear so small.

The eyes covering the forest
closed covering the shadowy
fire seeking internal guidance.
I knew I should pray to the
forgotten things in
forgotten ways as the faint
whistles of boats and the murmur of
lost coastlines- where no sound
should ever be.

I was so near to what I sought-
or was it the eerie influence of
this place? I will broadcast over
the grey immensity of the ocean
for hope of honor among the
weeds. I gazed across the waste
of wild grasses underneath the
willows. I heard the ceaseless
beating of rain- wishing I had
the keys. The milk of the sun
in its own way stirred in me
a blossom that quickly closed
again the days and nights
spread out forming a trivial
modern song forming a trashy
appearance of a tail, and the
sky a glowing copper hue. A
barrel organ plays in the
temple in the distance an
ode to the dusky ones.

Nerves quivering in that
uncertain light in a
playground of lesser men
as the horizon rolled up
before the dim white faces
peering out from the forest.
VOices assure me in whispers
that I have been deceived.
There is no doubt an analogy
between the days and nights
spread out, and the wind
putting a hound on my trail.

The importance of all this
breeds a strange dawn that
I could not escape free
from the heaven the dayborn
Gods had made.

Night Meditation Poetry Experiment #01 06252012

26 Jun

Listening to
bluebird highwaysongs

“Sometimes I get too
sad when drinking-
look at that star
through the hole
in the forest

“It’s the bottom star
in the Big Dipper- the
ladle part.”

“Groovy, I never knew
that at all.”

“Oh, I’m an expert on
the big dipper.”

My favorite picture:
me at ten years old
with the dogs dressed
in my best Pops
walking in the
wintersnow on
the farm.

Your favorite picture:
me and my sister as
children- dressed up
for some reason- you
love my sunglasses &
blue suit. I am standing
there with my sister
in the side yard.

“How old did I look in that picture?”

“Between eleven & thirteen.”

A new year of new rivers,
a woman jogging
gorgeously in pink-
for a moment she
was Athena- like
that four hundred
pound cyclist
that day between
flying discs, ducks,
and music.

And we beat the watermelonsun
like a drum- it’s ripe- let me
know if my Grandmother was
days- how many has it in been?
Remember that night in
a parking lot in love
fire’s burning flame

blue routes
a hawk flying
over a field-
a crow sitting on
a wire eating
a candy bar-
he gets it-
tiger roses
and my

What does fall say
to the ground?

The stranger at your front
door is nature-
a man of constant sorrow
a madman on the boat
in a storm.

With you it is always a
a burning torch kind of light-
and there are rats on the
flood, vampires, and
always honest men
imagining morning.


Overflowing Ashtrays Now vs. Burning of the Great Dismal Swamp Fire

3 Nov

for Mandy- this is another story in the night for you!

I am overflowing ashtrays now,
I am waiting on a phone call
to come tugging
down the line, and I am whistling there is only
one thing on my mind. All these strange
in the night,
and the only one I miss is you- out there
somewhere- Do you know what this is all

White lines are waiting in the night, some on
mirrors reflecting all tomorrows being the same
over and over and some you wake up to one on the
highway at five in the morning you, and all those
white lines are passing, and you have more
stories to tell her, and you can’t wait to whisper
tenderly- I’ve known pelagic depression, but
tonight, tonight it is dark and cold- I miss
you, and it feels right under a new moon.
I decided to go on back to falling down-
Opening up my eyes to everything.
Opening up my ears to the harmony.

The Great Dismal Swamp on fire in the night
I can smell it burning on the air
I am many miles away that night,
many miles away tonight.
It is dark, and there are those flames
to those who don’t know any better
hidden behind skyblue sunglasses-
extend the time limit!

It just sits there on the giant ashwood desk.
Is that a return address?
There’s enough energy everywhere to create
the Big Bang, when certain things align.

Some things are about money I think, and
then there was this person preaching about
the antlered man
and the great green earth mother, and I
said yeah, I understand, but I don’t think
that you do really.

Don’t think you can tomfool your way,
that’s all I was saying you can’t fool
your way through this, not this time,
not tonight, it is not that dark,
I can still see.

So what was I saying about my
alumunium heart, and sleeping
in the night, and do I answer
the phone? Light was flashing
somewhere in the night- and
I think if I was somewhere I would
be happy instead I’m stuck
on this great northern railroad
line tonight. I’ve seen visions in
a crstyal ball, I walked with a zombie,
I danced with a zombie the other night.

And time grabbed me hard by the collar,
and said, “Get out of here real soon, you
were never on Noah’s ark.” And I awoke
sweaty and groggy, and is the dream
broken- please just extend the time
limit- take of your sky-blue sunglasses.

And Heaven sent me a message that it
was well after closing time in the night,
and I should go or things could get weird.
Vengence vile and violent, and weird energies
in the night, and he was just an old bone daddy
rolling his bones in my face, first.

There’s this river I’ve never heard-
never swam in its current- I’ve done a study
over a thousand evenings, and I’m 99% percent
certain of what hell is- I’ve been there before-
it is always cloudy and full of smoke in the dark-
but I’ve been given the keys to a new city passed
to me in a sweet kiss, from tongue to tongue,
and after a thousand years I’ve just been
waiting to get that close to you- there’s enough
energy here to create a second Big Bang- this is the
only way I know to stop that endless white
line from coming, tugging on down the line,
and I’ve been a gambler,
and I am ready to fade away into the night-
be in a different place-
the only place I want to be
is with you in the early winter
dark, it is cold outside, baby.

I am smoking my dreams away tonight
while I remember the Dismal Swamp
burning under the moon, and stars, a
fire glows in the night- I remember the
smoke, and then I close my eyes and
think of your winter promises. Hold on,
I am going to spin some records on- you
pour a  few drinks, and I’ll move in real
close, as it is oh, so cold outside and I
hear those lonely train whistles- they
are in my ears too- just one more
cigarette, what do you say?

I’ve been waiting a thousand years for
a yes.

When I am Alone I Hear You

19 Oct

There is some warm sky waiting
for me full of her sweet blue
fire, blue machined hills
and telephone days.

Her hidden arctic glass
images buried deep in her
sweet mind have
become essential
to my heart.

“Will you please take my fire
skin in the dark?” she asks
like a bird between the moon
and sky on a dark winter night
of snow falling.

I become a green blossom dream
laughing and floating through
her window on the breeze, for
in my heart she always makes
it spring.

Firebomb Somnambulist

23 Jun

One night long ago
I ate the flesh of a
freshly killed deer
that had talked
and walked with

Then I sat alone
by the dying fire
that had cooked
the deer as the
sun fell

I sat there chewing
on the darkness
that was
all around me,
and out.

I passed
out later under
the moon, and
rolled in my dreams
into a baptism
of blood.

I awoke and
then knew that
religion was
an axe that
gives freedom
to the forest,
and I
was more than
a simple