a living will

In case i pass,

may the poetry on this page

be preserved for the future

RELOVELUTION

WE THA FUTURE

of a new nation

a true creation

of the American 

Manifestation

So what's the Destination?

A United Nation?

A onestarflag?

A complete integration

of ethnic, racial,

cultural collection

held by democratic 

election and tribal

connections, lets find

a way to rid ourselves

of the department of

corrections where in 

exist the evolootions

of the good old fashioned

       plantation

and may we inspire 

the invention

of an all natural

means of transportation

or else we may soon see

the cancellation

of our chances of makin it

to the constellations

snatching asteroids from the belt

forming the gates of Jupiter

hollowing them out 

and carving totem pole faces

and with the installation  of the

appropriate technologies

to allow people to survive

in space caves

until we can propel

forth unto new planets

and plant it, the space

age will predate the stone age

and the relovelution

will pass completion

upon the germination

of the galaxy

on a one star flag

Relovelution

AGCTivate

 

so

when

they say

conceive,

do they mean

cumceive? or cum seed,

come see who it spelled, written in Helixia

body colors combine

and coagulate

they say Gods name

is 4our letters

A G C T

Activate

your letters

and actually

gain elevation

Together god's children

are carryin the carriage of a tremendous

tradition which has been written

in them distant stellerations

im beginning to see the

acceleration

of stars in

chromosones

goodbye

im goin

home

Meow

In this world of illusion

is it rabbit or a duck?

when it taste like chicken,

who really gives a cluck?

at the chinese kitchen

they choppin up kittens

and puppies they be catchin

cuz we all about a buck.

in this world of illusion

what course are you cookin?

are you followin your heart-

or a fortune cookie?

if you can eat without lookin

then you better do the latter

and have a breathmint

with your poo poo platter!

withinnergy

Art be the way 

to the soul of the world

mind be the door

to memory immortal

images ingrained with energy

springing up from withinity

seen on the screen

of the vision stream

fleeting photos flow

over the inner geography

are they projected

from another source

of light? from where

do these beams originate?

colors casted creativity

from an untraceable source

visiting instantaniously then

leaving infinite strains yet

no tracks to follow

back, how do we row

upstream to the mouth

of the mighty living river

of inner vision?

If you know, lets go

skinny dippin

leap from raised boulders

on the banks

and plunge

in till the splash settle

look up and see

the ripples reach

look down and let

the depths glow,

let me know-

why should we go up for air?

Eyelash Curls

Everything is written with a spiraling tendency,

 a double-helix generation, 

black vortex warp holes, 

tornado twisting, 

hurricane wind pattern, 

wave curl,

 a slight foam swirl over a fossil of the original shell, 

the organic oceanic seed sprout, 

reaching roots and out-stretching living limbs, 

unraveling verdescently vivified fiber lines of leaves 

intertwined with individual cells of the lungs,

 filtering out the air for a planet 

on a spin-centrical path rolling closer to the sun, 

who is on a similarly inward curl...

a Metatronic Rhyme

me, im from the middle east, my name jarusalam

sound waves i speak conjure cubes of metatron

i can manifest the microphone i tatoo'd on my arm

and grow a flower out of it to bloom in every mind

subtle ripples emanate the petals on the pond

make a puddle of the ocean with my rain boots on

rpg

When playstation twenty three becomes Atari

And I-phone androids

Are worn as shades and groovies

Showing live hologrammatic movies

Of whoever you may call

 

When you can step into the xbox

But it’s a sphere not a box

Where you experience a clear

Peripheral screen of complete interaction

By means of the ipod android goggles and body gloves

 

With a mass multiplayer concoction

You have the option of living in a man made dream

Of this creation

Many will obey addiction

They’ll make you pay to play

They system

When your pockets break

And you have to take a Cold turkey

fast break

Mind already passed half baked

You seek a quick escape

by buyin a bullet

and bye bye blastin your face

convinced you have another life

you can see it floating in the upper

left hand corner of vision screen

a suicidal mirage

 

people used to look up at the sky

and wave hi to the gods

now we let our days pass by

slaves to a suicidal mirage

video games, telescreens,

computer manipulated

viruses injected in our genes

corporate selected groceries

whatever they may screen

but I cant stop

letting my life suck away

to be inside a black box

 

 

 

 

 

one day they will be equipped and able to completely

contain you within the confines of a little black box

in someway you will be tricked to obey the unbelievable they feed

to you, who wants the game, livin in the screen shining  in your pupil s

its not facebook its full bodybook

and you can design how you look

pick your avatar

no more need for emoticons

when  I can see you face to face

to some of my Beloved Elders

With My Father, My Mother

gave birth to a dream

and the dream was a seed

that grew into a man

and here I am

still a weening child,

watching Mommy paint

beautiful murals of underwater 

scenes on the walls of a nursery,

drawing and writing a children's book,

designing comic book t-shirts

she made me an artist

ninja turtle birthday cake 

with five candles

at MeeMaw's house

Daddy etched out a long-neck dinosaur

as I wrote this it hit me why

Mee Maw made a ninja turtle cake

Only a couple months before 

I left a Ninja Turtle get well card

above Granpop's hospital bed,

but he left before we could say 

goodbye

These memories are golden in a sepia way

now all of Mee Maws' memories are seepin away

her mind has deleted away,

but her heart still strong and beatin away

still hangin on, still keepin the flame

I remember when it first began

an she was forgettin the names

and we would even have a laugh 

at the things that she would say

Pop's I never met you but I miss you with all my heart

I have the picture my dad took of a certain baby laying on your chest,

listening to the ancient rhythms of your heart

Mee Maw you are still here but I miss you

you gave me the gift of old family stories

or stacks of pancakes, you gave me discipline, respect, 

and that mysterious musical instrument,

a humble sense of humor,

you gave me ninja turtle neck sweaters

for christmas, and the last gift you ever handed me

was a photo of me laying down upon Pops' chest

listening to his heart beat bump the great blood songs

of my lineage. I Love you, Mee Maw, I love you

Pops, I Love you and I know you are protecting 

us every step of the way

As far grandparents, they were all i had

I wished I could have met my mother's mom and dad

Now my Grandma Hessle is the only one I know,

she's a saint who travels 'round healing people as she goes

my mommy chose her to be our grandma

as she chose me to be an artist

and a peacemaker I owe everything I am

to her, and my father, and all of my elders,

ancestors and predecessors,

angels and protectors,

i love you all

with all my heart

together you are the reason

our family made it this far.

I LOVE YOU MA!

Today is the MOST holy day of my life: 

Happy Birthday Mommy! 

The spirit of the rabbit on the moon in the flesh

A peculiar Rabbit was dropping eaves on Mama Earth and Granmaw Moon

and overheard their conversation about the state of things, Moon humbly listening to Earth's worries that her children will be the death of her: they drain her veins, infect her waters, drill her flesh, leaving lesions and wounds, blisters and boils wherever they settle. Her children are causing her great sickness,  she has a high fever, the wintertime being her only sigh of relief in her olden age. besides the harm her children were causing her, which she always forgave, she wept because they rarely even remembered her as their mother, and failed to see and treat each other as family, they were forgetful and ignorant of the great tribe from which they came.

Rabbit's eyes melted with compassion and he wished peace and blessings upon her, and relief from all her troubles. A single tear dropped onto Moon's wrinkled hand, and she turned to look at the pitiful creature. She asked him if he would like to return to earth as a man, in order to remind his brothers and sisters of their duties to their mother and each other. Instead of destroying her beautiful flesh, they should work together to grow a great great great garden which will be her temple rebuilt, or rather, re-grown. And so Granmaw Moon sent Rabbit down to Mama Earth, reborn as a baby boy.

my Mama is the earth to me, my foundation and university, as sure as she gave birth to me, i love her more than God.

A Pubic Pondering

As I think about the people
and all their petty wars,
I scratch one of my pubic hairs
and wonder what all it's for

My pubic hairs are plenty,
many more than i can count
I sure wish i had a penny
for each one that i squeeze out

some are short, some are long
some are brown, some are blonde
some are weak, some are strong
but at least they all can get along

a peaceful bunch, and fun to see
they always keep me company
If all those hairs can get along
then i wonder why cant we?

I love to set them free,
run the streets all in the nude
I sure do love those pubic hairs
except when i find them in my food

I must admit i will forgive
can't hold a grudge for long
if it wasn't for my pubic hairs
how would i keep my weiner warm?

Sylvan Boogie

In a fast and passing glance i see

a dashing troop of dancing trees

their branches breathe, whistling

as light gleams through so chrystalline

a scene pristine and seen by few

spinning within my fleeting view

as these trees do seem to move

the light reflects off evening dew

leaving hues of endless more

chasing shade with brilliant shores

the graceful course of tidal winds

blends all life and never ends.

(written on a bus returning from the frigid 2008 anti-war march in D.C.,

inspired by the way trees seem to spin when passing)

Another Seed...

Why do these strange fruits hang in peace on the poplars?
the truth is obscured by this taste of copper
interred and conferred not even dirt for the graves
enslaved human beings must first be appraised
before they go on to live and become another strange fruit
and the juice drains into the champagne flutes
the same noose used to end the lives of plenty
is used by another man to tie a bag of money
many die, and still the world spins monotonous 
caught in this whirlwind  of intolerance
common sense is absent in a world ruled by madmen
its always been an eye for an eye, but who really gets the last grin?
Why do I cry? Why does blood spill?
Why do I laugh when others must kill?
everybody has an answer, but look at what it came to
another seed planted for the tree with the strange fruit

(inspired by Nina Simone's "Strange Fruit") Sept. 25, 2004

Lakeside Rhyme-thoughts

ripples in the water

on the surface of the lake

are nature's little riddles

for the circles of our fate

the sun shed light

to be captured by a spider web

the unsaid sight

enacted right inside ya head

you can see whole trees

through a hole in the leaf

the emptiness alone

is what makes it all complete

in every vine tendril

i find a divine symbol

spyin 'em climbin

the pine till my spine tingle

some times i hone rhymes

to pine cone patterns

mindblown fathomin

the mind over matter

let the choir sing the chorus

when its dry and aint no waters

just one twig can set

a fire to the forest

the sky didnt splash

when it fell into a puddle

now i can catch clouds

in delicate little bubbles

Constellating

Your soul is but a spark of light

yet it holds a galaxy

so look up at the stars tonight

they'll show you how to see

inside the mind

behind the eyes

thoughts in your head

are the signs in the sky

observe ursa major

and virgo too

there's constellations 

in the words i use

third eyes do

have a birds eye view

so i see you and i 

in the verse i drew

when i say I 

that means every one

because one is many 

and many is one

thats some love

just so you know

as above

and so below

what is up 

is also down

what is within 

is all around

take a grain of sand

place it on your fingertip

use your intuition 

and zoom into it

imagine all the atoms

that it took to perfect it

zoom in on one of those

and put this planet in perspective

we are so large

and yet so small

there are so many stars

in each one of yall

you can tune in 

and listen to the moon spin

or hear heartbeats

like you in the womb again

put your ear to the earth

and feel the rhythm hit

and let the heavens up above

be your television set

Mee Maw

As she forgets about everything

everybody forgets about her

and what she did for the family

now the family breaks apart

as if the alzheimers spread

into everyone's head

The last time she visited me

was in a dream

she walked in my house 

and dragged her finger 

across a dusty coffee table

and shook her head 

with disappointment,

demanding that I clean.

And thats exactly what i did

when I woke, wiping up all the dust

after drying my eyes 

of sandy salt water

My Tribe

In a past life

 there was a man I knew

named Martin Luther King 

who was so damn cool

we spoke about a vision, 

he had seen one too,

and in this life 

I've seen his dream 

come true.

My family is a Martin Luther King Jr. dream come true

Its hard to hide the pride I have 

for the tribe I hail from...

The Rabbit

Why i Cut my Hair

Truth is...

I didn't cut it, the world

cut my hair, society did it,

it fit to prophetically

and yall started calling

me a name i did not

deserve to be called

not with my insides 

eatin me up

guiltiness was givin me

the greasiest guts

i was ona sin binge

and the syringe was stuck

tried to look into the mirror

and all i seen was disgust

it was time to let it go

begin anew and do

right by you and i

so this verse was written

by the U-N-I

elementally it was meant to be

as sure as this opportunity

was sent to me

i was given a gift to 

deliver the word

now not even my hair

can get in the way of

the vision observed

life is short,

especially mine

so i thank every single one 

of yall for lettin me rhyme-

A Song I heard in a Dream

"If I drive into the fog

till we'll never be again

will you remember what we have

or leave it to the wind?"

- i heard this being sung by a haunting voice

while i was driving down a foggy road over a hill

there was the ghost of an old asian woman frozen

off to the side of the foggy road

and saw all the graves from car accidents,

i got out of the car and she crawled towards me

so i picked her up and threw her down the hill 

into a bushy ravine, 

got into my car and hit the gas,

the car hit a bump and flew into the air 

and over the hill, landing not so smoothly

but safely i escaped the fog bitch

Traveling by Thumb

hitched my way from Donegal

to Galway

if my thumb didnt work

i would have walked it all the way

first Martin picked me up

and he told me bout the poets

and different races of the UK

he dropped me off outside

of Charlestown

next it was a couple young bucks

on their way to a rally

down in Sligo

they gave me a bag of sweets

next John the travelling bard

gave me a ride

and took me most of the way 

to Galway

he bought me a sandwiche

and said i could pay him

back with a pint o murphy

in Lahench

where he would be doing his next gig

in Galway i met Andy, 

the London radical,

who told me about the wolf farms

Olly the skunk man,

who just got divorced

and gave me a free bag of irish green

and rolled a lucky joint

I gave the bag to Jason who 

was homeless and unemployed,

a victim of hard times

but cheerful nonetheless

he drank me up some

Jamaican rum and irish coffee

in the central park of Galway,

and Robocop the slobber knocker

patrolling around with shit head tattooed 

to the backside of his right hand

just below the knuckle

Vagabond

got nothing to my name

but my name and a bag of song

my name and a bag of song

just an aimless vagabond

picture this: a clover 

 at the cliffs of Moher

on the west coast of Ireland

in the County Clare

im sittin over here

puttin a spliff into the air

which i got from Olly

who gave it as a gift in Galway

so im gittin high like always

listenin to what the gulls say

my eyes wont pull away

from this food for my dreams

is that the sound of the cavern breathing?

or the heartbeat of the sea?

a certain yearning is expressed

upon the faces of the cliff

the water waiting for me to jump

over the edge and take a dip

every single stone has been a sentry

for centuries

killing time until erosion

decides to set them free

leaping with a lift from the cliff

gravity defied

may the dream be live 

or just a lovely way to die?

A Freefall Episode

Dry as desert summer

is the the earth asunder

and under such a spell

does much of hunger dwell

And we all wonder why

the sun just wants to fry

the crops and stops the rivers run

so hot we've got to shiver some

some do hum the days away

heads hung low to pout

they sing of woe in jaded sways

and dread that hungry drought

"I must do something" is what i say,

"To bring the rain," i shout

loud and clear, for all to hear

big and small, far an near

Stout and stoic, my mouth proclaimed

"I, Freefall from the land of Jreems,

will travel up to the land of Clouds

and bring back down the Rains!"

Now I know this sounds insane-

meet the clouds? without a plane?

"You see we live in the land of Jreems

where possible is anything!"

Anything?"- "Yes thats what I said,

Now to the clouds i must head

this ground around i must leave

and all i need is to believe..."

Believe, Believe, yes indeed

if only the rest would bless my deed

"They will see," I say, "full of will

when i return, my word fulfilled."

So I journey forth to the mountain tops 

once im there i will bound and hop

up and up to the nearest cloud

there i shall sing my request aloud

Once I do, I hope to meet

some humble folk who do not speak

instead they sculpt a piece of cloud

into glyphs and signs, with ease and style

peaceful smiles are quick welcome

these are the folk i ask help from

they smell of fun, but i cant digress

for my whole realm is in distress

One of these folks, Al's his name

told me to sit down and explain

"My people down on the earthly plane,

sulk, and mope, and complain,

for they have nothing to sustain

and all the kids have stomach pains,

they scream, they cry, so dry in grains

they wish for the clouds to supply the rain."

"My oh my," Al signed to me

"So damn dry are the times that be,

to help i would give my very soul

but this dilemna i cant control..."

"Why oh why," my dear friend Al,

I thought the rain came from the clouds,

"I Apologize, but this is wrong,

we only gather rain to run our farms"

"For Water rises up to us,

but down to yall it falls,

we give yall some when there is enuff

but now we have none at all

"Out of clouds we shall not pass,

but there is a man of lore

whom you could ask,

He lives beyond the shores

of earthly grasp

beneathe the waves 

he lives to splash-"

Al the Cloud took me down

down right above a

flowing sound

he blessed my 

quest below

the ground, and in jest

he confessed his growing 

frounge, "go now

down beneathe the tides

where nothing inside

 will keep dry

follow the Mera

the ocean's daughters,

to the city of Clera

below the waters

there they will know

the cause of the spell

particularly one by the 

name of Shell

Hopefully she can make this well

and fill the well,

before the land is ill with hell."

Beware though brother, 

of the Naga,

if you get caught, 

they'll end your saga..."

vers-atility

ima werd this verse in cursive 

while its burstin through the dam

while searchin for my worth

i been emergin as a man

i heard the world is hurtin

theres emergency at hand

its up urvy single person

to work together as a 

FAM

i wrote this for my sister

and my brother man

theres so much more to

live for than money

no matter what they tell

you on the radio 

let tell you a vision

i had when i was wide

awake, a vision of a 

one world with one

law- a law called freedom

freedom to move without

borders to be deported over

freedom to live and breathe

and sip free water, free shelter

to be under

especially for the younger 

generation

free food- if we have so

fuckin much

why do my people still die

of hunger? when we waste it

free communication

no company or corporation

to count the calls we make

free transportation

on a solar power shuttle

train connect 

everything  

to ya doorstep

the earthblooms

and when the equinox procedes

to a solar summer

she will germinate unto other stars 

to fertilize the universe

we are close

to the catalyst

Pt.4 of an Eiry Journey: Badluck Belfast

(7/8/2010)

 

Belfast smells bad, worse yet are the British flags, and some boys called me a long haired fag and challenged me to a fight when I wasn’t looking, yet kept it moving when I turned around. The bus trip from Drogheda to here started out with bad luck, first my backpack fell over into the aisle, then my drink followed it. When I opened it to take a sip it blew up all over my shirt. So when I got there I found a hostel, which smelled of sewage. Then I decided to take a walk, and a rather long walk it was. The hills outside the city called out to me, so by the end of the day I learned one lesson: the hills always look closer than they feel. I made it to a park, then took a trail into a ravine which doubled as a garbage ditch. It was quite beautiful beneath the decades of trash. Carparts, tires, boxes, bottles, cans, it was practically a neighborhood landfill, and probably the same stream they got their drinking water from. So I bust a bunch of sweat before I climbed out of the mess, and ended up on a narrow road flanked by cow pastures and farms. I strolled on to the end of the road and slipped between the barbed wire fencing and up the hill I went. The cows got scared and ran- snitching on me with their moo’s.  It was one hell of a walk, dodging  cow patties all the way up, but I made it to the top. My reward was rainfall and chilly wind.  And the second lesson of the day: Going down the hill may be much more difficult than going up. My dumb ass decided to take the shortcut, which was deceptively steep and condensed with the most prickly plants I ever met. At the bottom of that forsaken hill I was greeted by a dilapidated detention center, complete with 30 foot fences, guard towers,  and an underground bunker.

 

Turns out Belfast was bad luck. While tumbling down that damneded hill my pocket let my lucky monkey free : (

 

So I took the next train out of Belfast, into Coleraine. Then caught the bus to the Giant’s Causeway on the North Coast, which is unwordably magnificent.

 

 

I see 

Statue of W.B. Yeats

in the stonegrove

at the big park in Dublin.

If they decide to longevitate my memory

with a statue, may it have a button

which you press to make me rap to you.

How great one must be to be recorded

in your history.

Pt. 3 of An Eiry Journey: When Inspiration Falls

 

Have you ever heard

a bird hiccup?

 

Waiting on a bench by the water in phoenix park,

Waiting on something inspirational to fall out of the sky

So I can write about it,

I hear a couple of syncopated squawks from the tree

In which I am under,

And a heavy dose of bready bird turd plops upon the book

I had just layed down atop my backpack.

“A portrait of the Artist as a young man” by James Joyce.

I wiped the glob off with a leaf and laughed about it,

I guess its what I was waiting for.

 

 

Took the bus up to Drogheda, then connected over to Newgrange, where I luckily booked the baddest bed in the business, then walked over to the bru na boinne center, and took the tours to see Knowth and Newgrange, fascinating remnants of Neolithic tomb-temples. Newgrange is the home of the triskellion, and I can hardly digest the importance. Strange, back at the lodge they put me in room 36 and I didn’t even think about picking bed #3, but I did. I witnessed sunset from a nearby, nextdoor pasture. It didn’t fall too far from the tomb. This ancient countryside is beautiful beyond the bounds of words, in hills one can see the motherly curves that those ancient temple builders sought to honor, praise, and emulate. Venus showed her shine from the southwest, which I suspect was the direction of Rosa in relation to where I was. The clouds turned the color of love before nightfell, I saw six birds fly by, then a lone one taking leave towards Drogheda. Tomorrow I go back to the city, with some souvenirs I snatched from the grounds of Bru na Boinne.

(7/7/2010)

Part 2 of An Eiry Journey: A poem (7/5/2010)

“You don’t know what I found in me,

and I don’t know no boundaries…”

 

Went out solo to the pubs, and loneliness made way for thought:

 

Lost n lonely

What again am i

Lookin for? Some

Say my soul- old

Wise man say the

Origin,

As a poet- am I

Simply here to observe

And report?

Whats the purpose-

Still I ask-

As the question has

Been asked by so many

Beggars before-

My suffering is

Eternal, I mean

Internal, inside

Of me is infernal,

Might this burn

Forever?

Hell no I hope not.

Why am I searching

The world over

For myself?

 

I am here yet

I am not

My thoughts rot

From inside out

I shout with a

Soft voice

As a boy on a

Lost course

Alone to my wandering

A planet without

Life I am empty

And I wish, I pray,

For a belief to

Fill me, yet none

Pass the wrath

Of my thoughts

They clot the way

Quicker than cops

At a roadblock

Yet there is no stop

To whatever is eating me alive

Instead I am dead

Inside my head

And ready to be damned

Yet I already am

For I fell while

searching for the

trail, traversing through

the maze of all those

social ills, with the

patience of the monk

who wrote with quills,

but once the

paper is soaked it

seals the pain that

I have wrought

Foreverly evaded by

The peace that I have sought-

An Eiry Journey

Rosa can be a hulleva lot to live with but it’s her goodbye’s that make me miss her.

She dropped me off at RDU on Saturday with a very frenchly kiss. After sliding smoothly through security, I ran into Will the poet, who was on his way to Palestine, by way of New York. I turns out, we were departing through the same gate, his plane came in directly after mine. I hold the upmost admiration for him, he is a very saintly man, and willing to fight a cause and for a people who are not his own. He is travelling to help others and do something of meaning, I am traveling and going nowhere.

 

I shouldn’t have told Will about the flight I took from NY, the one where I was seated next to the biggest woman on the tiniest plane.  I jinxed myself in doing so, because on the way from ATL to Dublin it happened again, and I spent the ride with Ms. Thighs Almighty weighing in on me. I was trying not to be impolite, while she was obviously irritable and embarrassed. I couldn’t tell if I was more excited to land in Eire or let my legs loose.

 

After traversing aimlessly through downtown Dublin I feel a lot less Irish than I thought I was. My most memorable moment was when I fell asleep on the lawn at St. Patrick’s cathedral, only a tail away from the sacred well. Luckily later on I met my roommates at the Hostel, Carlos and Alejandra from Guadalajara, and we ended up tagging along with some others, went pubbing, replaced my blood with beer and broke my shy. We talked loudly and danced in a huddle, I stole some drinks off a table, and found that hearing American pop songs in an Irish pub made me more proud to be a Yank than fireworks ever have.  That night I partied with Amanda from California, 3 dudes from Philly, a brother and sister from Wisconsin, an Aussie gal, and an Irish guy. Most of the dudes seemed to be fixated on winning over the Australian chick, I was on faithful boyfriend mode and didn’t pay her much mind. The next day when she left, she gave everybody a hug, but I believe that my cheek was the only one she kissed, and I swear I could see wide eyes and jaws drop out of the corner of my eyes.

 

Did I mention the sun-shower that sprung down as I wandered the streets of Dublin? Let that be me fireworks. (July 4^th, 2010)

 

my theology

random Dream i had on 4/11/09

I was bragging my ego out of my mouth to the fat nerdy guy about all the fighting i did in high school, he probably came from the book i was reading "...Oscar Wow" he is quietly reserved,  then we see 2 suns near the moon, then they move around. there are 3 suns, one nears us, becoming a red electric orb, the sky is red, it travels quickly like bumblebee. We follow it to woods with stonehenge style ruins, people panicking, we see the woods radioactively transforming, alien crash site, very tall hideous swamp thing aliens come out of spaceship, i run, fatboy is going up a watertower, he picks up an artifact, a bracelet, I tell the alien chasing me that I am not the one he wants, he is, pointing to the fatboy. They turn around to chase him, he shouts out courageously and thrusts his chubby fist up in the air, lightning crackles, strikes him, the orb comes and disentegrates the aliens with red laser beams, things return to normal, fatboy is gone, replaced by his sister, who looks conspicuously like my sister Reva.

there was an honest and ominous sound...

was it that cavern breathing...

or the heartbeat of the sea?

Sitting with the Clovers at the Cliffs of Moher

Benny Gull

the Birth of Benny Gull

                                                    

                                

 I am Benny Gull

And I believe that 

I’m A bird, because

I’m descended

from dinosaurs.

 

You laugh at me

But it’s a fackt-

Not all birds can

FLY. But I can when

No one else can

See me.

 

I have a heavy

Body so I leave

It behind and fly

Without it. But im

Rather shy so it

Wont work with

Your attention,

I’ll get nervous

With the wobbly

Wings.

 

But if I am solo

And I run around in

Circles With my wings

out, and do the dizzy

Dance until I activate

My anti-gravitator

Organ and my other

Body becomes a

Falconian spirit

 

I may lift along

With rising hot pockets

And watch the city

From a birds eye

View, I can count the

Hairs on a cockroach

Leg, practicing my

Perfect timing by

Dropping spirit poo

On people’s hats

The Trinity of Withinity

Once I met a man, Jim Stephens,

A family psychotherapist, ex boxer

And Irishman from Boston

He was kind, cool, hospitable and

I had the feeling he related instantly

And we carried many a conversation

As the court had ordered

He offered to hypnotize me.

I sat comfortably on the couch

Stared at a spot on a portrait

While he spoke soft and

Monotonous, counting down

Until a warm tingle consumed me

he told me a story of a

Stoneworker who got tired of

Carrying stones, and wished

To be a prince, went to bed

And woke up as a prince,

Who saw the sun was more

Powerful and wished to be the

Sun and it was so, the sun

Was all-seeing, but could not

See beyond the clouds, they blocked him

And the people praised the clouds so

He became one, then enjoyed

Freedom for a while until being  stopped

In his wind by the mountain,

so he turned into a mountain

and rested for a thousand years,

until he felt a sharp pain

stinging, piercing on his toe,

he looked down and it was

a stoneworker, picking off bit by bit

into a wheelbarrel to sell

miles away in town.

At the peek of this story

I was free falling deep

Into the cushions of the couch,

When the cavernous shadow

Of My inner being was

Illuminated with a visionary

Glimpse of true self,

An adolescent me

Standing to the side watching

A toddler me, and me as a father

Run up and hug each other lovingly

I saw from all three

Pairs of eyes

Trimultaneously

For all three me’s were I

Epiphany

Searching for the werding

Of the feeling when I cope

Is the equivalent to capturing

The curvature of smoke

With this calligraphy graffiti

Get a greasy brushstroke

See I composed it in my head

And it exploded when I spoke

Brain matter splattered

And the walls got soaked

Here batter batter

That was all she wrote

Here batter batter

That was all she wrote

Gemeni

While contemplating the Art of Memory

I laid down on the golf course sidewalk 

and entered a trance by meditating 

on Castor and Pollux

who where passing through the zenith

I knew I was under when static 

on my crown began to tingle

i saw an ark the color of  sunshine and cumulus 

two ancient mariners awaiting

with smiles beneath cloudy beards

waiting for me to board as captain

captain of an ark built according 

to the blueprint of the heavens

a star ship, to be made of memory

manifesting destiny

a week later i was telling my Dad 

about the vision, and while he was cooking 

i pulled a mythology book off of the shelf

and looked up Castor and Pollux.

They turned out to be the patron saints

of sailors, assisting them with 

favorable winds and safe passage 

across the mighty expanse.

Projection

when blindfolded inside the closet

and trying leave my body behind

by inducing a meditative trance 

a dark-haired and olive skinned 

spirit walked in through the wall and instructed 

"in order to do what you are trying to do,

combine the energy from your heart 

and the energy of your mind."

then he called me Adam and disappeared.

So i consciously collected the pressure pumping from my heart

and the electromagnetic pulsing from my crown

together in my throat and awoke outside of the closet

in my room next to the window.

i noticed it was dark outside,

but it was day when I went under.

At first a tingling paralysis hindered movement of my limbs

then I remembered how tai chi practitioners 

would gracefully move their arms to conduct the flow of energy

so i wave my hands around and was able to walk slowly around the room

before being pulled back into my body which lay down in the quiet darkness of the closet

"Pull the energy of the heart

and the energy of the mind

together in the throat

and leave the body behind."

A Dream of Pangaea

An elderly mulatta gorilla crone

limped up the road in shabby cloth.

A man approached with interrogation

she waved him away 

but persistingly he asked:

"Mamm if you had one wish,

just one wish,

What would it be?"

With a sigh she replied,

"I wish my whole family 

would come together once again."

I knew what she meant and I cried.

A poemical portrait

To a dreamworker of the Weaver clan

And an Orphaned mother of the West

Something ancient manifested in the firstborn

Laid on a quilt woven by the humble wife

of a holocaust survivor

stars and flowers, starflowers

So the night before he emerged from the mystery

Of emaculation in the mother

Dreamweaver had seen a vision of her giving birth

To a bunny baby,

A mothersday boy

the leveret was born

in the human form

sharing a celebration

with the birth of the modern state of Israel

and Che Guevara, a predecessor of the same blood

a nurse foretold he would be an artist

based on the twin crowns

the spirals of his head roots

said he used both sides of the cerebellum

balancing his raw creative energies

with reason for peace of mind

he was the first of three

a male trinity

the infinite triskel

of prophecy

written on the bru na boine stone

in the middle east of Ireland

where his archfore fathers

waited for the warm smile of the solstice

they charted stars to read the signs of time

 

It wasn’t long before the weaver found out

Sitting in a Wok, waiting for the food,

He read the asian zodiac on the placemat

And recalled a particular dream

Upon seeing the firstborn’s year of birth

Beneath the rabbit sign

 

The lucky artist

His luck was chanced by the age of four

Shortly after his baby brother lamb

Returned to the world

And before Pops passed on to beyond

The rabbit baptized himself

In the summercamp pool

 

He said he knew how to swim

When the waterspots on the last lifejacket

resembled dookie stains

 

at he bottom of the pool

A rumbling blankness

washed him over

Asleep he fell

Without his gills

And nearly drowned

They found him facedown

blue as the eyes

pale at the rail

and about to bye

oxygen mask, breathe,

ambulance, coma

 

electrical reconnection

seizures between the synapse

narcoleptic naps

hospital beds

with wires attached

 

medicine, school,

monkey in the middle

without playground rules

“gimme my bear back!”

they didn’t so he

bit em in the balls

time out till mommy got him

 

they said he was special

he spoke slow and acted oddly

shy and treated with difference

at meemaws house he blew out five candles

with a ninja turtle cake

and daddy taught him how to draw a brontosaurus

 

His mother crafted a children’s book

Of him transforming into a photon blue

Interplanetary explorer named Freefall

When he went to sleep at night,

traversing the Galileo galaxy

In search of a supernova

She had him draw the pictures

He drew a few and she elaborated

 

He watched her paint murals

Of the ocean floor

On the walls of nurseries

She would paint batman and ninja turtle

Hieroglyphics on his shirts

 

At school they saw his freckles

And called him dirty,

Treating him accordingly

Little did they know those were

Stipulations of holy solar shine