bedpoem four:

moss covers the north

                      and below it,

anchored firmly under the grass covering,

trees continually grow. in the ground, an ecosystem 

                                                           cool and earthy 

covered from head to toe in a

single

      white

            fitted

                   frame house.

Triumphant but short.

bedpoem three:

as the trees taste the stains of their palette,

the white and yellow scream,

bringing the cradle and mattress.

it was

the animals and birds and insects filling 

the huge flowers with the abuse

                                    of a child

awful floral characters

the comforter is the cradle for reprieve;

comfort and warmth 

the white blanket made a canopy of silence

reside upon the bed itself.

Manifesto

Why should it look like

something

                                                                                    at

                                                                        all

?

Let subjectivity reign with the mind’s expression of beauty, frivolity, pain,

waste                                     (of space, ink, words, thought and matter),

creativity, submission and/or conformity.

The embodiment of self, something to perceive, something expressed.

Let it be spewed,                               (sprayed, or otherwise globbed)

            arranged                                (senselessly, precisely, not at all),

                  incorrect                          (politically, grammatically, shamelessly),

                                and                      (or)

                                     rigid                (unforgiving).

Poetry is communication, 

          from poet to interpreter,

 of ideas                       (concepts, feelings, experiences or mentalities).

.

Poetry is indebted to its creator; although its sentence of servitude is subjective.

Inversely so, the poet is slave to poetry, as each poem is an extension of part of the writer, and we are each indebted to ourselves.

Lerk

Lerk slithers

          she is the air 

                moving through the creases of tight clothing, 

                      flattening and changing shape after you've moved. 

She is the 

      whispers

            across the tiny hairs that cover your eardrums.  

Synonymous with

      cool metal sliding across your skin,  

                 rippling impossibly,  

                             with a smoothness that keeps you still.

Redeem:Salvage:Compensate

Attempt to achieve the redemption of the ignorant.

Intravenously slithering is the cataclysmic longevity of pure ‘civilization’.

Humble the warped, absolute horror of greed

While negotiating consciousness and socialization;

                                                Manage freedom’s authenticity.

                                    Responsibility:Core:Risk

Knowing that subjectivity makes relative every gesture that complicates

the semblance of meaning.

            Take solace in your beliefs

                        they’re the bullets of the wicked tortured souls of the past.

perfection

No slight misconception should throw you off balance.

You’ve created this pretentious utopia on a pedestal.

                   

                                        Rise      on      it.

                             Where are you now?

I am*

I am an endless flesh-coloured fractal

circle after circle

I am the tendrils of a weeping willow, brushing the tips of the grass

and the infiniteness of the sky.

I am the tea leaves, steeping in the springs,

not quite detached from the withered plant body.

I am not profundity incarnate.