clay people pt II

clearly conceived is the future, 
and presently visions materialize

a twin, an equal
a hybrid of 2 + 40
the irises of insight
the darker corners of a generous smile

as if the dead ends and death were holding patterns
to keep me here
keep me where,
until
just as when I 

and here I was:
"how can polarities exist in the same global body?"
of course they do, it is I, libran utopia
its name is balance,
the dance I desire

and I love being stung
myself, the air on fire
rushing down the river
some reminder I am
flesh and blood,
water and stone

it is all right here, as summer blooms
the world is on fire

eyes piercing through the atoms of my ecstasy
we will never have to sleep again

all you have to do is ask

manopubbhangama dhamma
manosettha manomaya

clay people

as soon as I’m courageous enough

to be foolish

I fall in love

immediately — 

totally inebriated 

by the world proliferating

beyond the threshold

of their faces

I want to reach inside

and touch every inch of them

we could lie down and never get up again,

traverse the valleys and mountains of 

the world between the membranes

of our skin

and I’d feel satisfied 

november nostalgia

legs up the wall reading poetry
as in twenty fifteen
except
I am sober
and less licentious

winter, sick as anything,
Pōneke, carving shapes into bodies
the composer, brilliant and
grossly underpaid

there was always
"success" 
and then
a dead end

start again, start 
again
this week, how the bills ?
dumpster dive and sublet
I didn't need anything
just a body beneath me, now and then

I miss the volatility of it
I miss dreaming and dancing it into being
I miss ___________

but I do not miss
smoky eyes, volcanic skin, asphyxiated lungs
I do not miss
the volatility of my own head

karakariki

and suddenly it all
makes sense again:
head under rushing water,
gentle wander through woods --

I remember the reason
why my feet should walk this earth

I couldn't tell you what it is, but
(it is being)
I relocate it within me

and it is all like this:
wither, incubate, bloom
forever and forever
and ever (even) beyond death

cannon

your goodbyes awkward as his
and all everything, the same --
half a decade of subtle memories
sitting in a boy's body-mane

we go up
                \ the falls
(who held and hid me
mid-winter)

and I go back in time

The Universe and Everything
some weird pang of nostalgia
for a future never visioned

i can be
with /
         out it,

my only complaint is
i can't --
              feel --
                         
the water on my skin:
a decade demands modesty
though reversed, it's couture:
I could be with 42, the Answer to the Ultimate.

and my only other complaint is:
Slow ! Down !
there's no time to breathe or be
are you afraid of the stillness,
where we see and are seen ?

still, I like flying
let me get high with you
prayers answered on a rooftop
and he lived in the spare room

we go up up and up

I'm wise enough to know now
it's hormones and spinning seas

they churn 'em out bright these days
smart as phones and fearless worldly

I remember that
before the blood
and my heart on his sleeves

when I still manoeuvred magick
and whispered to the trees 

(each moon I crawl back into myself,
get reborn and come out kinder)

he told me I was selfish
but he doesn't have to bleed