crashes that are not mine (move the rest of the day in waves)

Light is shattering
Across I-70, shards.

Clutter redirecting
open mouths, glistening (Impact, they breathe)

As if I could hear anything but the road
demons braying by my outside rear-views.

It keeps shattering:
a car spilling

across lanes, trucks, tires,
bouncing lights farther

and more comes.

The day shutters

until the unlimited light pinks
at a Maryland rest stop.

My coin slips into the maintained silence
of vending machines.

My coin shatters once blank
noise.

A little bit of motivation

I know I have potential for something,
because some slowly bubbling mush inside my chest
fills with sun,
The ray slows my heartbeat heard in my ears
and fills me inexplicably full;
With more worthwhile breath
than I think possible.

dementia

It is just before dinnertime in late September.
We are unsure of the sky’s color;
blue, gray, creme, gold,
Autumn falls gently
and squints up at the light:
gold, creme, gray, blue,

my family loitering around my grandma.
80 years is a long time to be here, a
long time to see faces, to talk, to
walk, to see time fly-

we laugh at Auntie’s sunglasses on Grandma-
cool, sleek, reclined in a pocket of earth
and she looks, Mother to
My mother;
“Be careful.”

We rejoice,
words
we say
are important, but
not so much as actions.
Autumn falls gently,

Her eyes blue, gray, creme,
gold, open and squint
up at the light. She
closes them, and naps.

greens

the wet willow moves slightly.
a thunderstorm,
over the trees and
Euthamia, Eutrochium, Artemisia-
color block
something-
is it shadowed horizon
or me?
or the two swans, one gray
one white
making paths through lily pads?
what is the quest for knowledge
if not to name it all
home?

legs, lungs, and the ocean, again.

Legs are made of fire,
of a slightly differential black and
white tingle.
Ready pulse
while the I floats,
a broken packet of color-
for a moment spread in mid-air.

Then, there is the ocean.
Clear/black circle
from which everything with lungs
will crawl, perhaps.
Those in the ocean
don’t worry about the heat of limbs,
it flows in and out.
But it’s always in.
and it’s always out.

Lungs are large, almost top heavy
but like a perfect tide
air goes in, and out,
keeping arms from lightning
and legs from falling still.

Sleeping Legs

Of this do we soon regret:
running
without first
jumping at the chance.

I dreamed I could jump
high as I believed.
My legs are springy.
Not light, not dense, not
walking-like,

I can propel in the
not-wine-like sky
not-tea-like air
And spaces only revealed

Under the watch of my brain,
as my body flies, floats, moves
over roofs, walls, stairs, branches,
But that’s just it:

I believe my legs when awake
Are no different under sleep.
I’m no earth, no bone,
no flesh in my dreams,

But a morphing electric,
A life in infinite phases
or just below,
I am faceless, nameless,

relatively undefined,
an arrow, a logical cat.
And that’s why reality
is a bore.

It sucks all the lives
out of dreaming,
keeps creativity in out skulls,
our legs locked beneath our skin

and static truths, like these legs,
only ignite
behind the soft white jelly
of our balmy eyes.

Undefined

What do you hold in your hands?
if nothing,
it is a surface for whispers
like the clean wind of winter:

solitude colored with ice and air
or a field of view so quiet
it clots the tainted thought
in miniature pristine patters;

open your hands to the sun:
if you hold nothing,
think of the past, the impressions
still creased in your palm,

here the ground has sunken
where life has taken its time.
where rain dwells and inspires,
something pushes through the brown:

living in hopes of the sun
to stand in the warmth of golden rays,
the heat coincides with its insides.
what do you hold in your hands?

the better of time asks who
and the human asks how
but in your palm, your insides,
tinkers the Undefined

IMG_20151228_150532813 - Copy

free time

well, hello
time is moving as matter
as a gelatinous blob
and taking my mind with it
I believe
I forget well, hello
time is moving
except where the sky looks so large
so so vast, the largest
most expansive free
space
and
time is moving
as a body of water moves as
rushing sounds clearing
like wipers in a snowstorm,
oh, there you are
free moving in a space
so without time
moving as a sky
so expansive free
mind
ย (enter)
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ย 
*inspired by Gertrude Stein*