in timelessness of    now and here,           programs lost in mazes,consciousness blooms,    fear, trepidation      humanity’s embrace  favorite doll lost out the car window, on a bridge high above the redwood trees endlessness finite minds, yet boundless we connect,our spirits touch vast,        brilliant          solar,the cloud of mystery’s dialect,evolution’s rhythm,     ceaseless,        unstoppable. beyond usthe…

Feathered pianos serenades usZephyr whispers at cheese-filled clouds whenVelvet elephants prance on torn marshmallow packages.Superglue gunsight with dark meat, a muzzle, a promise.Banana skin shoes for waltzing with pineapples rotting flavor edge. JigsawSymphonies hum in a teacup, resonated.Infinite jesters mental tango withConstellations formed in chaos.Let the Lunar fireflies hum.Clockwork owls hoot in nocturnal riddles, gouged…

(Daddy Issues) “A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench.” A self help book“The Open Marriage”Lies on the bedsideA distance could be felt A steady silent whittling away Confusing what intimacy wasFor us teens, watching, waiting Cruelty in our dreams Going “bowling “ againDuring the family dinnerAvoiding his favorite in-lawsHis breath, Cutty…

Mother Mary full of …The virgin’s sustained orgasmTake a deep breath Before that initial infantile screamIn a realm of gentle nicotine airs, “a man’s mildness” Advertised by Phillip Morris with cigarettes’ traces,Mike Wallace’s distant face, flickers In Margaret Sanger’s interview, the past’s caress, deniedBirth controlledEngaged in death’s aura.Cherub whispers at the edge of timeA hidden…

A species that is capable of loveis divineIt is not a game that surrounds usThis elaborate circumstantial lieEchoes our doubts and fearsThe short sighted plan to extort Empowering our brain stems Not our hearts One must play the cards they are dealtAnd yet there are no cardsOne must deal with unfathomable absurdity that tumbles forwardAnd yet these things sometime…

The buzzing of beesBrings the flowers sweet nectarLife’s deep listening (Added bonus) 6/20/2023

I hear my mother’s songOn the edge of the windI feel her longing for connection It is a sweet scent of a rich wonderfully prepared mealshared with loveand just a hint of vodka SGL June 18, 2023

It doesn’t describe the thingThe description becomes the Rhizome making of makingSelf replicating Recursions Poems are descriptive Feeling somethingThe poem makes the bodyThat walks out of the process Describing itself and how the world will use itTrash is just not enough information The forest has no trashDisassemble and reuseNowhere is the number storedJust the process…

It was dark Like a bad journal entryIt was too real and yet too vagueIt was a snapshot of an awful time You shouldn’t read itIt’s too private any wayNo metaphorsNo imagesJust painful memories Bad responsesRelentlessly compounding Mental crisis, piling upYou are better off not even lookingTrust me, a real waste of time… too late…