page 109

the other day
there upon me
my eyes due laid.
riding the back
kissing the wind
be a willow spray.

outside of here
all else before
my fight due stayed.
pushing against
standing so firm
my strength cease to fray.

until now is
to know again
born new is today.
riding the back
kissing the wind
i am willow spray.


:::


do not be the fish
who swims in oil.

be that fish
who swims higher---

nearer to the surface;

be that fish who again
breathes water!


:::


amongst the black coats,
black scarves, black gloves,
black ties, and black shiny shoes
is the one whom cannot cry
for he is joyful.

he whispers,

"You my friend are free. Truly free."


:::


born to be the fastest animal
on this living planet,

the peregrine falcon
does not know its level of speed.

it does not know of its cone-shaped
nostrils to help it breathe at high velocity.

it does not know it has both long and short
sight vision to pinpoint its target
from a mile and a half away.

it does not know of its ability to stoop---
plunging into a free fall
at up to two hundred miles per hour
ambushing its prey.

it does not know of its eighth-of-an-inch
long talons that lock into position
after snatching dinner out of thin air.

it does not know of a small bony protrusion
under its beak created only for snapping
necks on impact.

it does not know it must take its first flight
at six weeks old.

the peregrine does not know.

the peregrine does what is.

~

on the back of a thermal vent,
the peregrine glides to the highest
updraft, turns its body, locks-in-on-its-prey,
and dives in a free fall
towards the pigeon of the ego.

SNAP!

     is the ineffable stoop of our spirit
     worth the risk to kill---to finally annihilate---

     the very thing keeping us from life itself?

~

that is our fatalistic flaw...

we as humans are the top predatory species
on the planet.

and yet,

we are miserably inept at ambushing
all those incapacities whose luster and lure

keep us crouching in the bush
with our javelins---too fearful

to kill something we believe
to be beautiful.

    we fail to understand
    we are, in fact, the prey.





Comments

Post a Comment

Most Viewed

page 73

the woman said to the pairs of eyes standing around her, I am quite excited for this travel. My clothes are new, my satchel is full, and my shoes are taut and unweathered. can't we accompany you? asked one of the eyes. I am afraid you cannot. You are all nomads. I, however, am an explorer. There is a difference, and I cannot say how one becomes an explorer. whilst the eyes looked around dejected and angry, a young pair of eyes without shoes, hung filthy clothes, and a deprived stomach, moved her hand quietly over her heart. seeing this action, the explorer smiled at the young eyes from the corner of her mouth, sat up, and turned to a new direction to travel. she announced confidently, Do not worry! Some of you will...and have realized... how to truly explore. ::: after magnifying the wings of a butterfly one day, a biochemist nearly lost her head at what she saw; the pigments were segmented into parts. not like feathers, not like
Read more

page 1

to lose sense of time looking into their black eyes. must they always be sore with neck pain? purple stamen. dark, royal purple. everything feels lighter in this room; the lamps fess up: We have fewer volts to carry now  because of them. seven yellow faces of God. they proclaim, We never stop faith-ing. ::: other people are simply reflections of you. make wedding vows with those you meet. no! not really! do not be literal, but say this inside: "i met you,   for better or worse. " "i met her, in sickness and in health. " "i met him, till death due us part ." in your mind, marry everyone; make a commitment with everyone--- family, friends, neighbors, strangers. bond wholly; like bubbles on top of bath water,   and divorce any part of yourself that does not serve you anymore. ::: down the river. i am one paddle. You are the other; my face is constantly submerged and choking
Read more

page 69

there are friends who comfort us during the thunderstorm. but then there are friends who comfort us during the thunderstorm--- and shelter us from the rain and cover our ears from the noise and ask us if we are ok after the storm passes. cherish those friends who both experience the thunderstorm and wait until the sky returns to peace. a thunderstorm stands no chance against a lighting-love that strikes before  thunder welds a single decibel. ::: when we convince ourselves we cannot overcome the pains of our past, it is as if we are bees who have punctured ourselves with our own stinging-needle. lying on our backs and crushing our wings, there is a field that is not being pollinated. flowers are starving. their nectar is growing sour. in the midst of our pain, we attempt to fly into water, into a soda can, into anything to help us heal. supposedly, there was such a bee who stung herself so badly she could not even fly from the hiv
Read more