Ignorant Bliss

Summer Solstice
Montague Harbour
Galiano Island

Lapping fringe of bladderwort
resting on the tide
ripples gently catch a spark of sun.

Motionless like herons,
five vessels of the wealthy
                              nosing north
                              drape the languid breeze
                              in lazy leaves of maple.

Our beach tent from Bahamas Bay
folds round its turquoise shade
feathers in the air's caress
here on this beach of shells.

We're resting on the bones of time
pulverized to sand
where, since forever, since forever,
humankind have gathered for the feast
have sung and danced
and burnt a pyre
                             scented clouds of cedar
                             sacramenting all the sisters
                             bronzing all the brethern
                             of this sun swept land.

They spoke the stories of the sea
long forgot by we
who crawl like ants across the midden
                             impervious to lore
basking below nylon on the shore.

May Flowers

 Those petunias' purple:
            ultraviolet.
Candy striped geranium
           basking robin skies
All those firs of song
           limbs embracing
           air so sweet,
           smiling on my lung
           Here, where swell the strawberries
                       blushing downward.

Gold marooned pansies
           like Russian dancers:
           pant sleeves squared
           tucked in leather
                       almond skin so cinnamon.

Dusted up debris, the June grass
           mowed by high-viz nylon
           and yellows glamour rock face
           cliff toed Scot's broom
           sheared in full blossom
                       while green Godzilla
                       snarfed a mouth of slug.

Orange poppies managed
           to avert beheading

                       due to cheer.

Afternoon Verse

O'er pansied porch, steeped in song
buzzard spies the wayward moon
all round, assembled shores of fir,
                      needle shadows long,
linger on the robin's tune.

Hair strands of grey drape my eyes
as printed prayers on cotton
wander down the bleaching skies,
                     whitening like gold,
their manuscripts forgotten.

Mud flats down below lagoon
basking neath the snow caps blaze
sheltering the crabs of June,
                     feasting upon worm,
then slip 'neath clam's shell edgeways.

Clinging fast this gilded eve
grasping after wisp of sky
with spiders' silk, the sunbeams weave
                     tethers up to night,
lightly binding low to high.

Now I'm sinking into soil
I'm disarticulating
wanted to be true and loyal,
                     but time's caress of blades
has cloven all my waiting.

Waiting

 Long for what's no longer.
                 Know the loss, but
                 knowledge lost.

While in the forest
                stand severed stumps
                of ancient trees
                               felled by greed,
                who, now cloaked in moss,
                                nourish saplings.

                As forest's youth
                wait for wisdom of the land
                               to grow into them.

荒唐

Welcome to our folly
Season of Delight now poisoned,
as worries heap like rotting salad
leaking water
pooling into certainty
that nothing's working out.

(Jars of it stand souring
 on the fridge top shelf)

No matter what the fuck,
it's all become so laden
and fun's become mere function.

Here

In my bed:

2:36 - the worthless shit head circles in
this bowl my skull of porcelain

Once again not living up
My white lotus buried under freezing mud
       Wasting time
       Wasting sleep
       Wasting life
       Wasting

Twenty thousand pin pricks of confusion
       Crawling down my skin.

 

Again: 

My hanging legs
Can not sleep
The knobs my knees
Like hardened turnips,
Knocking circuits:
      left side backside right side.

The flabbing belly respiring palms
(greedily ate too much)
Waiting for some hiss of gas
Neck enscarfed in nest of hair
Stupid restless brain a-thinking
Nothing useful.

 

Whisperings

Stupid worthless failure
Belly a bag of shit
Filled with burnt squash that I wrecked
      (Beauteous giant spaghetti
      From last year's keyhole)

Thoughts jumping shrieking warning
      That I'm not living up
      Become a bland lingerer
      Dourly robotful.

Flatland

 It's all too flat:
                  all the spikes and vowels
                       the sluicing pixels
                       the Hollywood Squares
                       drably boxed up lightning
                       Boxes of Aurora, soggy bears,
                       slaughterings of caribou.

pancakes me.    round.     flat.
                       Bubbled onto skillet.

Now I'm pressed twixt glass
                      micro scoping
                      played out into digits
                      flattened into focus
                      flattened bones
                      melting into plasma
                      catching fire, combusting,
                      licking up matter
                      gasping down past diaphram
                      fraying vaguely
                      abstracting
                      propelled by stellar wind,
                      merging utterly
                      palpitating
                      intermeshed
                      forgot.

Leaving merely light.