unfinished

[anirbas]

winding down
summer sighs
over the month
of august
hot season
unseasonable
mild few triple
digits blessing
or curse after
last February
could this be
the onset
of an early
brutal winter
note to self
purchase fire
logs and new
tires before
autumn slips
into december
hark hark hark
tire chains buy
them learn to put
them on take
them off easily
I'm to old
to broken
for this
hell freezes
over shit
that happened
last year

[artolmaeus]

that weep you feel
being both the sun and the moon
engaged in a kiss of light
sums a reason of only awe
to stand, to look, to see
to feel, your self, that self
being still, knowing you are GOD
a separated God, in pieces parts
ends and stems, well canned
on the shelf past the expiration date
to be the breath before the orgasm hits
and afterwards, and the electrons we imagine
are there, making things up
are but the lies that monkeys speak
usually when they are mincing lice in their teeth
all but to wonder, what is past the convention of flesh
but GOD finding himself bewildered in the experience
and like a long lost friend, commends that such is its own self
having earned the experience, without belt or badge
or even pledge, for these constructs are the reasons
we give for the absurdity
that we are the fawn and the wolf that is eating at its throat
we are the child and the placenta, and all that drops from the table
and we are the dog ever watchful for our portion should it fall
like lost Israelites in a wilderness, two miles from their promised
but never finding it
like the shit we did not get to enjoy hearing make its plop,
finalizing the sense in our large intestine for the room for more,
more to come
but that it has been coming for some time
and in time, we were always late, since,
much more than energy, frequency and vibration
there is little evidence of anything
no matter how dense the wall, something gets in
something gets out
something gets on, we call it GOD
we call it ourselves
piss on a running fan and call it a warm rain
if only we were drunk enough to be honest
if honesty were even the right word
or is any, to fall into the corona
and walk on the surface of the sun
like a fairy whisp on butter, early in the morning
when we hallucinate the coffee steam,
somewhere between sugar and cream
and all the bikes we have ever ridden
take us into dreams, maybe grabbing a fat bottomed girl
or even being the grabbed fat bottom
pinch a baby's cheek, and I assure you
a fat bottom inspired something to go on
something designed, we say by GOD,
but, we enjoy it, good or bad, fully, wholly
but never enough, wet sand, oatmeal bland
and for the rest of the world
a pink packet of saccharin
if there was a plan
it was not the weatherman, man,
and if it happens once,
it can happen again....
only the loss of nuance,
oh nuance, how sweet the moment we saw the first dew
and did not think of water
but maybe the web it hightlighted in the rays of a dawning sun
and we, swept in something for the first time
wanted even more
until, it became commonplace,
then, we need vodka to make the peanut butter tolerable
eh?

[anirbas]

Despair deep as a kingdom
fallen asleep through cursing
Spiders weave webs with aplomb
in corners of deep thinking


Somnambulent memories
sleepwalk through the consciousness
Leaving smoldering chaos
in their meandering wakes

Ah but then the moon rises
a celestial empress
Glowing stars her retinue
darkness flees in Luna's light

I look about the night hugs
the plain corners of my house
My kingdom I bite the lime
swig a shot of tequila

Marvel at the beautiful
humans sleeping sweet dreaming
Possibly snoring inside
they are my reason to live

Therefore cursed or not I do