Green Wood and Dead Wood

A woodpecker is a mighty bird,
of beak that does not splinter,
of neck that does not strain
as she makes her forest rounds
to jackhammer neath ancient bark
for grub to eat and ants to slaughter.

I think it superior to be a woodpecker than a woman,
for we are only with our tongues impeccable groomers.
In all else we are more like woody flowers to which men
come to feast and bother, not with the clear intentions
of noble carpenters. Therefore, de plume them all
and serve them on silver platters.

You Promiscouous Boy

Pray for every woman you'd wanna bed
Pray especially for the one you wed.

Pray for the virgins and the loose woman, too.
Virgins are there any left?

You promiscuous boy, consider that in another life
your one night stand could have been your mother.

Dirty old man, is your girlfriend young enough to be your daughter,
then as you would you daughter you ought to treat her.

Keep hope alive, you promiscuous guys, the day is coming
when robots for sex will be state of the arts.

End of Maya Calendar Eve

An experience so personal, so exotic, so eros, I can not fully explain what sweet torture
I endured in the wee hours of January 1st by the dawn's early light, what so glaring epiphany
leapt from the shadows bright like fire, and like an angelic host my soul and body secured.

So convinced the vision is real, please don't attempt to persuade me otherwise, therefore
no more be said, I promise. Only pray, you poets, that comet come for real, and snuff us out
like candles, that we need not suffer yet another unfulfilled doomsday prophecy.

Breaking News

Heard and seen on CNN last night.

"This is a historic occasion,
we're seeing the last American troops leaving Iraq,
except for the 20,000 who will remain."

To paraphrase the "Yes We Can," Obama electoral slogan,
Yes we can, bullshit the American public, day and night,
night and day.

Little One

What are you up to little one, attempting once more
break out of play pen to check out the options
beyond your immediate reach ?

You, little one of the crystal ball gleam in your eyes,
who exited shortly from the pregnant belly, the labor pangs
were on schedule were they not?

In the figure 8 which expresses infinity,
the track trails back to the source of beginnings.
Thus, what's on the loop voyages infinitely round and around.

Thus, Big Bang comes full circle back into contractions Peel back
the layers, little one. May our index fingers touch.
You be searching, I be waiting.

State of Being

You pick the paints to color me,
Black and blue is fine by me.
I'm partial to the darker hues.

Whitewash me if you will.
It will not change who and what I am.
I am mud, I am saffron. I'm also coral reef.

Mock me, curse me. So many times
you've spat on me, I'm numb to adversity.
Towards adversity I feel a little fondness, in fact.

Whatever you, don't dare pretend to love me,
then at random despise my race and culture.
I've already told you who and what I am.

I am lowly not because it is my station. For love of art
I dress the part. Handle me with caution, then.
I might be your siren of destruction.

For those who insist to know what I'm about,
I'm a woman of a thousand faces. Some Calypso,
a few Medusa.

Royal titles I deride. Titles of pomposity
I will bring to naught. True nobility is of mind, heart
and of temper, most of all.

Eclipse

The fragrance of unfinished business
lingered upon my lips and fingers.
The thank-you-note he should've sent,
he didn't!

Dark disk the moon devoured instead,
but lunar fuel returned refreshed.
Suffice it then. Let's go from there
to kiss and tell the testament.

It was for certain an eclipse for us,
but not for the three of us alone,
but for everyone who sweats the collar
and heeds the trickles southward bent

to midnight moth's lust provoked
to swallow light, even if only a 10 light bulb,
better a ten then nothing, Alas, the moth
by light's devoured.

In cauldrons, I'll have you know,
that brimstone twinkles in soft lit hues to then explode expletive,
and in the vibratory ranges of recoiled lava spurts
is heard the wicked dissonance of bleating mattresses,

as well as is endured the maddening cries,
which slap unmerciful the senses,
that --- irreversible something lost,
the insufferable groaning which is pure pleasure.

Eclipse,
mighty Eclipse,
Tonight, to thee we carol
and pay thee pagan homage.

Oy Christmas Tree!

Post Xmas, plastic Christmas trees are hugely discounted. Peter says,
that over a 10 year period, you could save $700 investing in a plastic tree
as opposed to buying a freshly cut tree, year after year.

Furthermore, Peter argues, the 100, 000 people employed,
farming Christmas trees could better utilized in service industries
such as health care and border guards armed with Uzis.

Peter gasps over the wholesale pillage nature suffers
due to this fairy tale we call Santa-hood, of which adults
have been conning children for generations.

Peter explains, that plastic trees have the added advantage
their boughs can be used as toilet brushes, and returned
in virtually prime condition to the trees stored in our attics.

I propose a counter argue; man was meant to farm
corn, pine, whatever. Whatever being, let's legalize cannabis
once and for all for Pete's sake, and while we're at it,

what say, we LSD the eggnog in the august halls of Congress.
They need it, we deserve it. Watch it, poet, best button your mouth.
You don't want the FBI suspecting you're a terrorist.

Apple Blueberry Mush

Difference between baby and grown;
babies love mush and when we grow old,
having lost our teeth, we're once more to eating mush.

Oh for the 60's in Hollywood

Oh for the 60's in Tinsel Town
when all the stars in the movies wore wigs,
and bras were rigged to make breasts look like V2 rockets,
that when you hugged you should take care not to press too hard,
lest a kisser might be impaled, if the pyramids did first implode.

Ego, Libido, Freedom

Movement in, movement out.
Objects in movement generate resistance.

The heat of friction is the fruit of resistance.

Movement forward, movement in reverse.
Bodies are not entirely gaps in reality.

All living organisms have a craving to propogate.