ocean

oceans of miles

and deep into them

I’ve come or gone.

night or day...

sky or ground,

either way...

Windows and Ports Canal

Billuous cloud the

swollen blue orange

cloud that takes

up.  Who takes

a handful of dust,

blows it in

his face and begins

to move easily

across the sky.

It is that kind of

cloud that some days

charges higher into

the deck and who

strays farther from

heaven who gazes

down, so blankly

only can express

that.

Mille Oscula

Here by his empty stretches,

the gibberish, the brazen

wrong notes, of

thought long extended

is the,

surrounding/encompassing

the shifting skies strangely

elapsing his thread of

time,

ear or window of

the soul, listening, listening

for the pulse;

hearing in shifting sand

and staggered to fit

every bit in,

the wild, unrestricted,

unendingly merciless

rawness call of beauty

to this his primitive

its source at and

found, not shifting,

but pouring, inward,

a torrent of purity-

inconceivable gladness.

Li'l green

ive just fallen

to the bed asleep,

a dream sparks in

my asleep mind,

flares, and turns into

your face, angel green,

mixes fiery yellows and

purples, gold streaks

into crimson, pinnions

that float to the wind´s

tune and behave with

a single-mindedness of

purpose and form.  Your face

becomes my dream again,

as alive as my soul can make it. 

tu cara giving paz

roars of laughter backwashed

out there, backing up against

a great big silo, to

the sky sighing windmills

redundant and bloated,

a bit, facing more upward.

Into these tunnels of growing grass

up down their walls we’re speeding...

and even more so

the smell of sand off the shore

by night rolling in,

by car, and distant footfalls

I hear here.  Waterfalls

windmill current endlessly

the way we talk one another

without end; the day

stretched to night will

return a day again.

Passing thru yr city

Bolts of sunlight
For sale.
Wild air of distant river
Sow seeds in your eyes
Eyes televiewing the
Entire skies there,
The hundred ways the grasses
Swallow your melodies eyes
Know the rise of suns smolder
Enough in yr hands.
Yr backs a raft
Along the mellifluous current.
Songs are achin in the grains of sand.
Words away, and worlds are spreading