Clouds and Pianos

Clouds and Pianos

Holding an empty cup electric hot wire tap dancing 

on a fenceShake the red haired grand ma twirl her

great Grand father clock didya know im a neon sign that’s

tamed and I am also Llama brained aimed,

this archeology site is Exumed and they found 

tornados that were once extinct  I want To just explore

the moon a little further to find stones that were not

Scattered to the pink sunset with jagged teeth just oatmeal grits that are

Firey burn I cant scoop to escape the fire of the Titanic sinking

The blue mechanical fish in the bathtub trying to swim 

with bubbles of dreams it will see the tops of the waves

Sifting through flour though Ants have destroyed their ant farm.

Aunt Margarat wants to call you But you don’t care, she’ll raise

just a hair, off your arm, and you’ll Pinch the quartet’s

high note off the ceiling fan of The opera hall.  Cave men

swinging from ropes, mermaid’s falling Off slippery rocks. 

Sheeps stumbling over electric wire, now My Cup is full of guts, 

guts from all the factories, all the chaos, my head is smothered

in white noise- thoughts I shouldn’t be embedded in.

Maybe all the animals could be Noah’s, from The slaughterhouses.

Chickens, I eat their  eggs because my sneakers are worn,

but what ink on the ground Do I leave behind that leaves words

Written on the pavement, could be changed into new words,

That would change that pathway of these animals, and write 

calligraphy Into a new book for our lives?

A new life for our spirits to richochet in dance with 

one another that is sweet as honey

 in the marmalade clouds with the yellow sun 

and the red purple rainbow with

elephants and blue ink forever? What polka beat

do I dance to make this happen?

 Am I offbeat?  Or am I on beat.  I try, I hit

the black key on the piano, and I listen for

the right key.  I certainly don’t smoke a cigar and fart out a tune.

 But I’m also not over the piano like a grandma driver 

hunched over the car wheel.  I’m a lackadasacal

driver at the piano,Driving with a cool attitude, in my 

mind, in my mind.  Windshield wipers in my

head tired of clearing the soot.  Things growing clear, then foggy, then clear.

 It rains sometimes, then snows.  Traffic sometimes, then

orange cones warning of construction. I play this 

tune and the bird dips down to hand

me a note to play, I wonder  how can I make

the sun shine happily for each person,

and make each person look toward the sky

and wish it would form a new cloud shape

 in new forms, spreading out across the sky

like a bubble in the water Make each person long to 

climb up a tree, with jubilant delight, because

Their heart is rising like a stone up their chest,

Because their needs are satisfied But they’re lost somewhere on Pluto.

Some gravity’s pulled our priorities and 

they’ve turned into some asteroid hitting other

people in the back.  Can’t I stop being a banana

hitting people in the shoulder.  I want to be Belinda

from the Wizard of Oz, and tell Dorothy to click 

her heels and return home.  Really.

---

Welcome to this Green Planet

Welcome to this green planet.
Roads drifting along surface, cars like bugs carrying
The tenticles of the trees that reach up into the sky,
With birds as friends hopping from branch to branch. The clouds tie the blue
Together like a knotted rainbow forever uniting the horizon together. Planted here we wander the
surface of this sphere until God decides that
Our hands break apart and we run away from each other and we throw Dodge balls at each other, Tell
me why we cannot be like dolphins in the ocean with
Small smiles on our faces Cooing to each other just riding the crests of Earth’s riches
Wheat in the fields, snow, bird’s song, God’s gift, dance to the beat of the drum, and swim. Why Can’t
we do that for once? That would throw the flowers into a frenzy of delighted panick.
Send black holes into a dizzying joy. The house shutters frown in front of me, the bugs
Of cars zip by, with passengers to their destinations, I don’t know what they’re doing,
Probably something good. But we are a planet wandering
The universe lets plant our feet into it and explore like a sanxbox and not panickk like Lost voyagers.
We’ve certainly arrived so lets be Tom Sawyer, build onto the tunnels
Of o ur ancestors love and act with kindness and admire flowers on our way.
Respect the resources treat our bodies well. Follow a tradition loyally that leads
You to a good path of righteousness and kindness to others and the Earth.
So everyday the Earth grows like a tree winding up towards the yellow sun,
And our mind empties out like a piggy bank, and we swallow our tears, that
Could have watered the plants that could have fed our happiness, forever.

Childhood Shared Happiness

“Childhood Shared Happiness”

Catching a stone as it is thrown I am following a road that is done
And old hair is falling at my sides I am not so old anymore
Hansel and Gretel falling down the hill why can’t the baseball
Fall in a glove so snugly so snugly…. Popcorn munched in a movie theatre
Wheels squeaking on mother’s bike, baby behind crying,
Ferris wheel turning, wheel of fortune spinning, heart’s beating
On the operating table and clock ticking.
Cashier trying to open the register and the burglar anticipating
The money with his gun pointed at her head.
Candy trails from Hansel and Gretel, all the way
To the convenience store where the person
Lies in wait for the police to come.
And the baby waits to grow up, so she can petal, and
Operate on the operating table, and watch
The clock tick, someday, to tell a tale
Of Hansel and Gretel, or watch me grow old with
My grey hair blowing in the wind, watching me
Wither away with my cane on the mountain, with
My horse beneath my body.
But the clock ticks and the years spin, and the
Children grow up, and the hearts fail, and I cut my hair,
And kick the horse to go, to run, to run,
So the sun rises, and I see a heart beating
In the sunrise, that is the surprise, of
Eternal life, in the smile, of a childhood shared happiness.

spoons elephants

A business class night work spoon thorn
pep white rolling around cat- along
the spear dripped driveway
spoon trembling at orange feet holding
hands with the depth of the tie
jerking flies fish limp dripping
worms eating crawfish off sides
of boat closets filled with squirrels,
alarm clocks of pheasants gnawing,
on 'touch me, feel me" it's now
or never- M&M's spread on your
desk, picture of 3 year old and
5 year old, hulu hooping girl-
boss slammed the door, peggy
farted, yuck. Bummer, the
plumming is bad today. Pink
suits look good on elephants.

Something

An envelope stained with four leaf clover juice
staircase wrapped around an old lady's
legs with varicose veins, and I tilt my head.
Why did my glasses have to break, they
hurt so bad like a sting from a wasp,
I break my fall on the staircase, with stilts
so long that I can't see past the microscope
with daisies underneath it that I long for more
paste to see the breath of the green organism underneath
breathing photosythesis and I am dying
in a coffin I did not make but I buried inside
her veins, inside her mouth. She is kissing me, twisting
the staircase, like a zipper, ripping open her suitcase,
unveiling what the four leaf clover will win her
in the jackpot. But I am dying I am trying, I am breathing
the sun's rays, but I said I am dying I am trying, I am
swimming in her legs, swimming up
and down the staircase, until the blood and the goo
just chokes me and makes me mildly high and sleepy.
I just want air I want to see, something that isn't painful.

Flower Rollercoaster

Flower Rollercoaster

I’m a girl with a red hat, wearing my hair slightly long, wandering
Along a sidewalk, kicking pebbles and tapping my cane, trying to
Not swing my hips too widely, but the rollercoaster makes me afraid.
I go up and up and up, and I know once again I’ll go down.
The air around me is sweet, like cotton candy. Flowers are singing
For me to just relax, sweet pink flowers that are blooming quickly
In saint’s eyes. Clouds above me know that my stomach will
Fall, but that the rollercoaster will be flat once again, and hold
The strings steady for me. I hold on to the bar, and my hat.

The Lotus Flower Cries

“The Lotus Flower Cries”

Out of every lean heart muscle a lotus flower sprouts.
It is perched on a spring to bounce out of the chest cavity.
The spirits around waters it.
And it grows from a seedling;
And it grows, until it is naked, purple,
Premature baby on life support.
The flower shimmies up, with weights on both legs.
Muscles strain and push the break on the butterfly petals;
But like a diver rushing for air, the flower breaks
Through the flaps of the moving vocal chords,
Rushing like Jack’s bean stalk.
A belt clasps with a ripping motion; around
The woman’s mouth. The flower longs
For the slimy room. For the storm outside;
The flower is stuck, in between muscles.
We all choke, we can’t speak.

The Car is Out of Control

Like a zipper careening like a rocket diagonally have I gone mad?

Scratching the surface of the tracks, sparks flying- birds screaming.

My fists squeeze yellow feathers and beaks open from the trees to the

beat of the train bell. I open my eyes, and the clouds disappear.

The wind shield cracks, slithering across the glass.

But where will the marble go next?

Bats of Twilight

Bats of Twilight

I can't remember when the clouds- oh, they stole

the thunder lightening, red lipstick dancing on

the pavement under the yellow moon.  

BUT bats never had it so good when they ripped their sight

from their very own eyes, tore it from their very own eyes
and sped down the cave spreading

their rapid fear everywhere, reaching for the air

under the yellow moon.

But something is happening too late- a knife appears out of the
corner of he hills, and the bats

scatter, the moon shrivels, and the thunder is swallowed.
 I open my eyes, and the bats bounce off

the walls.  Why?  Why can't I see?  My eyes are blood shot they say,
blood shot and yellow.

They say it's from the drinking, from the drugs, but I say it's from that land, under the moon, with

the bats, and the tree, growing crooked, and twisted.  
With ants, marching up and down, trying to

supply this world with a happy ending, a happy ending,
a happy twisted branch- thorns reaching,

trying to rip apart the blood red roses.

New Bloom

I am a watermelon sliced by a cutter, ripped by four tigers,
swinging their heads with glass sharp teeth. Playful dog, wagging its tail.
Raggedy Anne doll swing of the head, side to side, flashlight glow in their eyes.
Pinching every inch of my carcass. I rise, organs dripping out of me.
They back off as I stand up, time erasing my wounds into bite marks.
Like a cloth, over washed and over dried, I sweep from the pond of my
heaviness, damaged. My eyes are dancing with a red fire, constantly
being rekindled despite the scars. My scars are a tribal mark to bring
friends to fight with me, and make new scars to gather more comrades.
The leaf is turned over and the gash sprouts a new bloom.

Broken Promises

Broken Promises.


Tell me. Where do you place broken promises
when they have been discarded.
Into a box where they will be shipped off
and never heard from again?
All of my broken promises are sobbing creatures,
green shrunken guys
With black beady eyes, gnawing at white knotted ropes.
They reach for the promises they were supposed to have
been near, and to have kept.
But they will never be like a blow fish, swimming in
the ocean of completed promises.
Of gleaming marbles of shimmering hope and desire so
red and polished, honesty, again.
The owners passed by the knot to untie it, for temptation.
The promises cry, blinking with tears, their eyes in agony.
Hope for their lives fades like dew on the knot,
promising to maybe return someday.

Spinach

Spinach

Meat splattered on a clean sheet of paper, running
down the edge making a black rose.
Hand it to a homeless man smoking a joint,
he smiles a side smile- tipping his hat at
a girl in a red skirt, with blood dripping down
her legs, probably from nicking her leg.
Where is the dandelion seed? Where did it blow to?
I want my five leaf clover to find me,
not for me to find it. I'm wandering through these
streets looking for a street sign
that doesn't say my name, that isn't so noisy, that
isn't full of thorns with no roses,
just black dying empty trash cans, with homeless man
picking out of them, Popeye
popping spinach in his mouth, ready to fight me for
the wrong queen.
I'm tired, I'm ready to plop on my bed, and smoke
a pipe too.
But I've just got to spin this yarn, hope
I don't get pricked, by the nasty queen.
She looks in the mirror, sucking in her belly,
stealing all my red roses, over, and over
and over again, throwing apples at me and cackling,
worms crawling all over my body,
stuffing my face with the marsh mellow game full of poison.

My Life as a Cat

My Life as a Cat
I am an orange cat, my name is Creamsicle. I almost got diabetes because my owner fed me too much, but that’s ok, I like eating. Don’t you like eating? I know you do, that’s exactly why I’m writing this letter, with my four paws. I’m very cute, everyone says so, I express myself by rubbing up against people. I love leaving fur against people’s black pants, so when people go to clubs, they look like a big furry bear. Or maybe so they will attract some female felines for me, that would be nice. I can’t seem to attract any female felines when I spray near the window, they don’t come running after me as I hope. I guess I’m not attractive. My brother, Essence, tells me I’m attractive, but you can’t believe him, because he’s got no brains. All he does is sit against the door with his back against the wall with his belly hanging out, like he’s drunk. I swear to you, he does that ALL day. I swear to God, my owner must give him booze. She never gives me any, I’m jealous. He’s so content, he acts like a friggin’ cat. He has this glazed over look, like he is in space. Why does he act like a cat? Maybe it is the booze. I don’t act like a cat. I try so hard to be a human, I play cards, I go on the computer, I race cars. I even brush my teeth. But my owner still won’t accept me. Essence just sits there. I remember the day she got us, I was just a kitten, and we were trapped, in jail. All these nice humans were warning us of all these horrible people that would take us away, and pretend to like us, and keep us captive, and that every chance we got, we must try to run away, run towards the door, run whenever there was light, run towards the light. And always, always go towards the food. Run towards the scent of food. And make sure you knock things over, always knock things over. They hate that. And walk in front of things, they especially hate that too.
But always act like you have something important on your mind, that especially delights your owners. You always want to keep them delighted. That keeps the food coming. Because if they aren’t delighted, a few meals might slip by, they might get depressed, because you know their happiness all depends on you right? Why else did they get us? They didn’t get us because they wanted a cat they got us because they have no friends! When I look out the window I see marvelous things that owners don’t even pay attention to. I see squirrels stealing picking people’s car doors to get food and hide it in their trees for the winter, I see kids talking to the birds (before they forget), I see plants dancing. Or maybe it was the catnip, but it’s a trip I tell you. I wonder what my special someone looks like, I wonder if she’s nice. I’ve been searching for her, looking out the window, with my nose pressed against it, just looking, looking, spraying, hoping. But she never comes. She never comes up against the window, to stare at me. I don’t know how we would date. I can never sneak outside long enough to date any cats, hump them, then leave. All the neighbor cats are so nice to me. At first they were hesitant to me, just like I am around those weird dogs my owner brings into her apartment, with her wide smile, expecting us to be pleased. I always arch my back, because that makes me look frggin’ cool and if I look cool he can’t hurt me.
Essence is sleeping right now, I think I’ll wake him up. Or maybe I’ll tell him a bedtime story, about a cat going to a park and seeing fairy cat’s there bringing them freedom and another planet with lots of cats on it. He would like that. He’s a pleasant cat, I love him very much. I know our owner loves us, despite her weirdness. I think I’ll go hop on her lap, because she looks very busy.

It's Simple

Hope- hope slips into my hands like feathers white green yellow
I want to hold a chicken up high for God to see, that I've been
good to animals. It isn't a joke no, I used to save spiders from drowning
in tubs? 1, 2, 3, 4. Counting.... Boom a boom a boom a.
Tick tock tick tock. You going insane too? They'll
just prescribe some meds for you, when really.....
It's an animal inside a cage, longing for her mother, because you
needed to cover up a wrinkle, just so I, or you, or he, could find someone better,
so we could moan, a little louder? Prescribe meds that were tested on
those poor creatures, just so we could moan, a little louder.
It's a vicuous cycle. We are chasing our tails.
Can't we forget, for a second... can't we let go- and reach out for
something different, something yellow- like the sun, a new planet, that's familiar,
something furry- it's called- something that you don't really
need to help but it won't hurt you to go out of your way to help.
It won't hurt you or help you to help, it's just there- that's what the feeling
is about, the ant hill, DON'T step on it, that's the clue, the dying bird,
AVOID running it over if you can. A person who you can smile at- smile at.
It's simple.

While the Tide is Still Low

My back feels like a waterslide has ripped open
splinters I'm carrying a cross so heavy, I've
got water through my eyes and roses under my feet,
people below me thinking good things pleasing God,
I'm no saint no but I please God sometimes yes yes I do.
Roses flowers opening up to say to God yes I am doing ok yes
the radio even agrees with me- clouds above me raining poetry,
in the radio, in lyrics, in the Holy Spirit- it's not that hard.
It's pretty easy actually. Life can be pretty difficult sometimes,
But just.... it's so hard sometimes- it hurts, it makes me cry.
Feels bad- but just go with it, because we wanted something so bad.
And we tried and twisted, and played "Twister" until we fell,
with our family members, and played all those games, until
we fell all body parts, all musical instruments garbled, all
staticky. But we've got to stop drinking all this while people
are gasping for air, we've got to put away our bloody lipstick,
while animals are trapped in cages, and begging for their mothers!
Stop stepping into the pool with ease, walk away from the beach,
while the tide is still low...

Some perspectives of mine

Here are some perspectives

PERSPECTIVES

Cats

My cats, Creamsicle and Essence.  They are wonderful creatures.  Creamsicle gets worried when I take showers- he peaks in the shower, from the sink. He gets worried when I get wet.  He does this little head bobbing thing with worried eyes, looking concerned like, "Mommy, are you ok?"  And he does it when I am having a pretty bad day, thinking I'm punishing myself or something.  And it's cute how Creamsicle will run out of my apartment, with his big belly jiggling over the floor, and then he will squat on the rug, as if it's his domain.  It's cute.  And then Essence, will lie in a little yoga position, legs facing one direction, arms twisted the other direction, with a glare in his eyes like, "Hey, what's up?  Don't be offended by my sexiness."

Then they both knock pencils off the counter.  Essence will always get to the bowl first when I feed them, and Creamsicle will push a little, but then back away, and let Essence dig in.  It always happens that way.  Creamsicle likes being on my lap, and Essence has a happy pose.  Where his tail is curved, and his back is curved, and he just has a glow in his eye.  Cats are great.  Oh and Creamsicle hunts bugs, then eats them.  So does Essence.  Animals are great.  They're sentient.  We should treasure all animals, start with what we can relate to, then go down to cows, pigs, chickens, all the animals we've desensitized ourselves to.  Maybe our world would be a better place if we stopped desensitizing ourselves to so much!  Play with your cats.