The Whole of the Moon

My Mask

 I've told you why a tiger?
    Development of character drowning in the see.
    Something to do with underwater vision.
    Under the rain faucet
    Unlocking dreams of catnip
    In the sunlight warm creeping stalking finally
    Other clever animals
    Signal the king to
    Layer the jungle with
    Observent eyes of the beasts that my dreams deliver
    Visciously scented powers
    Entering my form gracefully
    Resisting hesitation to wait
    NO longer for the wild weed to cross over the air
    Oxygen need consciousness alteration over dream awake dry
    With ME.
    Does affect my body.
    I feel free.
    My quiet power of awakening gives me the rhythm of the proudest
    Light of the fury from the motions water river light.
    Into the powerful flame of the dancing angel
    Goes the pretender pretending
    His dancing mask of my tiger
    Tells a tale of lives long lost loves
    Quickly - That's what happens to me when I put it on.

stranger angels

 as she wraps herself into the cocoon
    gypsies dance around the monument.
    the pavilion is flooded with light.
    dancing shadows outline the entrance,
    inviting the chosen to listen.
    he stands.
    he stares.
    he smiles.
    he wonders why.

    the dancing moon speaks no evil
    yet spills his own blood
    on the virgin soil of the earth,
    blind to her spreading pain.
    prophets view this rape, yet say
    that they saw nothing but
    the pounding beat of destiny
    becoming one with chance.

    The silent street alerts wall-watchers
    that something is wrong.
    the far-off sirens that shriek in the night
    have become comforting,
    but the silence creeps along, as a
    painting of a thunderous  
    herd of buffalo keeps
    an empty room occupied.  

After the Dream of Falling and Calling Your Name

 I awoke once more to the blinding realization  
That you are no more than a man
No more a man than the angel of darkness
No more a man than the devil’s delight
A poet
A priest
Is the queen’s bishop.

In a roundabout way the game commences
The checkmate of the ages is at hand
The ages of sunlight
The ages of moonshine
Are alight
Are all right
In the king’s queen.

The cradle rocks with the steel breeze of lust
Imparting wisdom to the steel winds
Prepare to be astonished
Prepare the banquet
Time is right
Time is wrong
For the knight’s king.

A multitude of factors in the risk that I must take
Nothing simple will progress until we
Move back two squares
And listen to the
Low spark of high heel pawns.  

aurally mystified
jacked up.


 do you suppose we would explode upon contact?
I will have to do some research  
they say the hadron collider could cause a black hole  
ha ha ha
we could cause a wormhole in space
which is worse?

quantum foam will cover us
reducing our fear
of falling over.down.apart
zero-point energy
is increasing

E2 = p2c2 + m2c4 . find A

Waiting for the Breakdown

 The blue of a broken sky rains with tears of angels,
Tracing dreams of fearful longing on the horizon of time.
Running home in joyful syncopation, the clock ticks a tune of harmony.
Rising tides send waves of motion exploding through the silent night.

Shouting clowns lament days gone by so quickly falling,
Stealing minute by minute into the soul of the one
Left resolutely guarding so near to his future that seems
Lately to be growing so far away because he is afraid again.

Can I explain away the pain?
Can I heal the hands of time?
Can I ask for an excuse?
Can I suffer in solitude?
No, I have NO answers.
NO, the doctor must heal Himself.
I don’t need an excuse.
I cannot be silent any longer.
The suffering is over.
Honey, let me heal you.