Sunday, October 19, 2014

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Shaolin

The marsh mallow has an afterlife
Leaves large and high feet, two to four

Mathematicians consider zero one of the world's
               greatest inventions 

Sun, moon, stars, the earth has yellow flowers
And indeed, whatever convincing flat stone
Philosophers may fancy they can produce
Church steeples independent of their minds

                  tall buildings, the appearance of great height

(Maya artists are known to a very few)

And as the fist imagination

Shaolin developed in northern China
In all natural operations straight line attacks

Where I consult this experience 
I also esteem strength and speed

Alas!  Nature has kept us at a great distance
                 from all her secrets

T'ai chi chuan consists of circular motion

Now this is a process of thought
Foot patterns, gentle force, and inner harmony

On his fourth voyage Columbus reaches Martinique

In 1635 the French began to appear






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The Soul of Memory

Save only sand and all thy splendor
In truth's great cause I sing
With him whose true love is my grace

I found myself one day all alone
Colorless on cold earth, I could but think
My happiness was doubled thru you

That thou see in so sweet attitude
Can raise deed fair 
And drive all evil from it's domain


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Nothing to Do

Nothing to do

in your arms

except holding tight 

every night 

                    to you 
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First Etchings

First etchings

Her thoughts are from cactus night
Poison me with anyone around me, baby

An hour meets no confusion
Or English of our breakfast schemes

More whiskey!

In marble rain.


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in the dna sequence

in the dna sequence
he took her up to her bedroom

the dark bedroom

i felt the angry vision, lofts, bushes, Ditches
       taking out his toes
        the box spins
the gold sea of the infernal empire
the platinum Saturnine empire

now he's a pig farmer

        belts bleach
        i own a microphone
        & your country form-deep digging
        snow dove

that is her job for anyone lucky with orange bottles

hello girl, the setting sun was
a beer or two from his gun.


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O Sadness

O sadness
The long, slow night is falling

Her lips rest & kiss
Not motion, nor sensation

But only a specter of my former life
Passing away
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Witches Burning Daises

Neat and tidy butchery
Witches burning daises
More choices
Flowers and cucumbers
Not that it matters
You pick the flavors
And leave me all
South campus call:  these
Flames rise up from hell
To make a meal of your soul.




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