A kind of freedom every day new learningsa fact on my shouldera meaning in my kneecapa flood of sensory skills attacking my nostrilsthis body is a facility for instruction intakethis skin a container for enlightenment I expandexplore the spectrum of my curious auraingest the zest of data’s pulsing wisdomdabble mingle marinatein the unknown so foreign… Continue reading Poem 162 – A kind of freedom
Category: On Writing
Poem 161 – Fog
Fog 8am fog lifts my muscles from malaiseI invite the touched down cloudstheir moody swayinto my heart’s morning murmurs we stretch into each other’s landscapes
Poem 160 Debates for Morning run
Debates for Morning run The great debate begins before my limbsknow they are limbs Should I run? NoShould I go for a run?NoShould I go for a short run? UghIt’s a gorgeous morning!Fine! Then my limbs tingleanticipation of their usea muscular aphrodisiac It’s lift-off the bedget dressedbrush teethready music & run into the day Shaky with limbic lustI thrustmy… Continue reading Poem 160 Debates for Morning run
Poem 159 – restructuring haibun
Restructuring haibun this body needs an internal restructuring of language its cacophony of voicesbounces off bonescascades down cellsacts like a bunch of bumptious bratsat a bedtime they deny how proudly pugnaciouseven their malicious ponderingsoh, if only I knew how to sift thempowder them blow them away in oneharrowing howl –worth the affliction of this kind of release… Continue reading Poem 159 – restructuring haibun
