My photo
:, Indonesia
I do not speak my truth to antagonize you.... I share this swollen river running -- This waterfall of faith-- because it flows from me like lennon's endless rain.... --my paper cup: this poem-- to which an endless string of words spill out and on to... I stain the sentences with abundant articulations that boil inside of me... I thirst, I starve, I crave. and all that quenches... all that can satiate me is to open the faucet and allow the words to run... They skip and dance across themselves... They formulate on their way out like fireworks deciding which way they will face when they open and sizzle in the night air... And when they do... it's a sight to behold. It shocks me like the boom, and takes me aback to see what has emerged. And Keroac knew. He knew all along... that I was one. As my words explode like spiders across the sky... I watch in staggering wonder at my truth revealed and know that I am home here. I have taken my vow... signed in blood... solemnly sworn myself in... been hazed and pinky promised... and I know... without the shadow of a doubt... that I am a mad one. ...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

in sleep. in dreams. in life. in india

Marigold hues
Dance through my dreams
I'm lost in being found.
But still I laugh
I howl at the moon
Whatever 'too serious' is... I'm not.
She asked me how I ran up stairs
I laughed and replied
Waking jungle dreams
That set me to sleep
In a hammock in the sun
The doors slide open to show heaven
For just a moment
Then it's back to lining up your good eye with the keyhole.
Tumbling down a rabbit-hole of reality.
Dressed in black
And charging it through
Colorful fields of everything.
Now that his soul was touching it all
He knew what he wanted to be.
A family of bulbs
Ready to blossom
Willing the wind
To blow just a hair harder
To wake us from this
Dream we're in.
Flowers are free for the taking.
And a warm smile
Goes a mile.

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