Sky, Fire, Breeze, Sea

Cleared the Sky above leaving nothing between us and the Fire ~ we listened now to the song the Breeze was playing.

We cranked the volume up.

Now and then, it was clear, strong, true, present, consuming, all.

Then, we heard the lyrics the Sea had been working on for 3,800,000,000 years.

“Crash crash crash pause crash pause”

We took that to mean ~

“Oh bows, pulled tight across the heart that pounds, I’m anticipating encountering that smiling face; please don’t give

Your embrace
makes the pounding
impossible
and
not something I want to see stop”


We washed away as the volume decreased, limbs limp and warmed and tangled and joy.

Critters are cute, yo!

Check them out! Critters!
Alongside the road, climbing buildings, stowing away on planes, ships, bicycles, wherever, whenever.
Critters bring the cute. By the bucket load.
They have hair!
They generally have eyes!
They are precious gems, just about.
Can you believe the Critters?
I know what they are not without.
They are not without cute.
They are cute.
They are Critters.
It's the equivalent of 1+1=2.
Like, duh.
Thank you, Critters.
Thank you for yous.

Poetry Blogs Make People Do A "Thumbs Up" Gesture

Send your friends/loved ones a link to a poetry blog ~
You know what will happen to them?
They will take their hands and
contract all of their fingers,
while extending their thumbs up, towards the sky.
Only upon completing this act might they consider how their approving gesture may not fall upon anyone's gaze,
as they are more than likely behind a computer or a phone ( during a commute )
and not interacting with fleshKind.
But that will not matter!
They will keep the thumbs pointed up
towards the majesty of the heavens,
without hesitating.
That's the kind of thing poetry blogs do to people.

Aliens are our friends

They smile and bring peace.
They are free from disease.
They have plenty.
They bring gifts.

Aliens are our friends.

They possess knowledge.
They want us to have it.
They are not assholes.
They say the funniest things.

Aliens are our friends.

They come from a beautiful place.
The pictures they have prove it.
They speak perfect English.
They speak perfect whatever-the-fuck-else you might speak.

Aliens are our friends.

They have landed.
They have changed us.
Remember before them?
They're totally famous.

Aliens are our friends.

Where the priests have no name

I want a gun
I want a ride
I want to eat waterfalls
then drench what is dry
I want a beach house
with a not-clogged-up drain
Where the priests have no name
Ha...Ha...Ha.....

I want to deal
with this old storage space
I see Houdini reappear
and talk about race
I want Helter Skelter to play again and again
Yeah
Where the priests have no name
Ho..Ha..

Where the priests have no name
Where the priests have no name
Still stubbing then rubbing our toes
after stubbing our toes
and when I know shit
I learn it from you
Its all 26 times that I chew

Where the priests have no name!

Run Gently

Passed-on turbocharging light sticks
Please put yours down
It is tops

You breeze me
So hard

I found a cloud for lying in
It is soft

You caressed my heart
with yours

Oh, heartbreak, you're tired
Just be real
Just be real

Just run gently.

When we stopped caring

Skin color? What the fuck ever.
Age? FUCK YOU FOR CARING!
Religion? I hope you are kidding. Like I could find a bone in my body that mustered a fuck.
Closure? Waaaaaay overestimated. Fuck.
Gender? Fuck.
Property? Why do you have to be such a greedy fuck again?
Death? What do you want us to fucking do about it?
Caring? What the fuck are you talking about?