BREATHING EXERCISES

August 11, 2018

She won’t roll away & not watch me.

Y’see, I won’t seem to take…

When I dream (or wake),

To take another breath before

The scene fades, before

Lights go up,

Then down to more of a zoom.

She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.

.

II.

We went to go to a yoga class.

Where a barefooted, hair-pleated group leader;

Beautiful, and calmer than a

Merciful last coma,

She insisted that our deep breath is

The gist of all of it (within, & out).

We rearrange the short & tall of it.

The Gist to change the depth, see,

Of our sea of possibility.

When we inhale

We re-memorize our own gods.

We exhale our hell. barefoot. on a mat.

Whew. To that.

.

III.

When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico

I’ll try out the drink, 1st thing.

I’ll try not to think when I try to let go

& sink when I deadman’s float all day,

Into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.

I’ll hold onto my own breath,

Face down,

Head down.

,

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P I E

June 19, 2018

 

“I’m quite tired of beating myself up to write.  I think I’ll start letting the words slip out like a tired child. “Can I have a piece of pie” he asks, and then he’s asleep back on the cusp of the moon.”                                                             ~ Jim Harrison

“It’s important  what I’m doing here”

I whispered in the corner seat

In yr Uberwaaaiting room

When I borrowed a pen

I had intentions one usually would wait on

But couldn’t just wait

.

I used to carry a backpocket pad

To  get it down

When I was a kid

I stole this bit from my 1st herowriter kid

Who I loved that he showed me sacred acts

I could write/

Caress the delicious lips of the Mystic/

And  Awe  All/

That comes of it/

.

.

.

“life is like a stage, I guess

love is stages of undress”

DELIRIUM TREMENDOUS

side effects may include

-absently staring into space (not time)

-walking into walls

-walking through walls

-delusions (the good kind)

-A cute optimism

-serious loss of scepticism, doubt, & Down.

-control issues

-Fact, being better than it seems

-a packed pocketful of dreams

-spells of snow angels

-pretty picturewindows in a bomb shelter

-There’s a bird on a word

-There’s a drunk in a midnight chord

-we all scream.. for vanishing cream

-Alas, Atlas, tonight at least…
-don’t operate heavy machinery

-Blue Skies

Too late  to be asleep

I got a call from the girl who keeps

An eye on my home.

She goes: “I’ve  seen

Blood prints on your linoleum.”

.

“There should be..since..tho’ I made that blood flow…

No excuse..” explained my masseuse,

“For this excessive..toxin..flush.”

sheets

May 17, 2011

Her references  prove to be

Spotless, impeccable.

Her preferences, it seems to me

Ain’t spotless.  Her sheets meet sun’s shine,

All windfilled,  & wet,

Clothespinned,  most  mornings.

Oh,  He’s  pined, most  evenings,

Night-dreaming   on sheets.

.

.

.

“Here I go
It’s coming for me through the trees
Help me someone help me please
Take my shoes off and throw them in the lake
And I’ll be two steps on the water”

                                       -Kate Bush, from “Hounds Of Love”