humanity

humanity
fire
skyscrapers
mega mega death bombs
high fructose whatevers
carrageenan
portable everythings
and enough entertainment
to make this life forgettable

winelips

winelips
in the morning
evidence
royal splotches
on the fingerprints
of our lips

"Cracked Pot"

Retold by Mary Dessein
a Tale from India.

A water-bearer carries two large pots on a yoke across his shoulders up the hill from the river to his master's house each day. One has a crack and leaks half its water out each day before arriving at the house. The other pot is perfect and always delivered a full portion of water after the long walk from the river.

Finally, after years of arriving half-empty and feeling guilty, the cracked pot apologized to the water-bearer. It was miserable. "I'm sorry that I couldn't accomplish what the perfect pot did."

The water-bearer says, "What do you have to apologize for?"

"After all this time, I still only deliver half my load of water. I make more work for you because of my flaw."

The man smiled and told the pot. "Take note of all the lovely flowers growing on the side of the path where I carried you. The flowers grew so lovely because of the water you leaked. There are no flowers on the perfect pot's side."

evanescent adolescence

eternal adolescence
where the water is never too cold
old folks are simply too old
the world exists for us to unfold
seeing life, as if for the very first time
bathing in the colors, the breeze, the grime
freedom - at freedom's prime
inexhaustible energy in every slice of our skin
stress does not exist, neither the fuzz on our chins
we don't play in a world where we must always win
we play to play, and play is fun
we play everywhere, our play is never done
if all else fails, we simply run
but we didn't know at the time, did we?
we didn't know or care of a "bourgeoisie"
we were children - in the heat - in Tennessee.

a few (5)

anything else?
yes & no.
& I don't know.

creativity is a lemon,
though we wish it a lime.

(sincerely.)

a few (4)

finally


finally
something
to say finally to
you know the feeling
and if you don't
you will
eventually
if its the last thing
you ever do
unlike the cliche
- if you don't mind -
which I just opined to you

a few (3)

suns & snowmen
again & amen
when you say when
I'll begin then
like I always do &
suns & snowmen
misunderstood
its not the sun that wins
sublimation
advection
condensation
precipitation
in short
snowmen
suns fell for it
yet again
& again
& again

(I like green.)

a few (2)

why can't I remember
things which I thought
your birthday in September
it makes me distraught
how we even met
I haven't a clue
where is my head
when it's not on the screw
why can't I remember
what I simply ought to

(this color, because I'm not sure about it, and I'm not sure about this one. but italics, because I like it more than the last one.)

a few (1)

all of these years
all of my fears -
you can take them
you can have them
but they aren't much
anymore
memories don't bleed
they don't feed
memories i don't need
memories recede

(gray because I don't like it, and I don't like gray right now.)

Forever Sunshine

summer
or late spring, at least
perpetual ease
ice, sand, and sweat
cooled by a breeze
freedom: immense
laughter
life
fifty cents
forever sunshine
it cannot fade
when i think -
lemonade