Is there an Escalator?

It's been years that I've been examining the steps
retracing my motivation to a shadowy desert where the iguanas ignite at night

Balloons fall from the sky with messages of syntactic embellishments meant
to touch your cream pie white skin and encourage you to melt
into a relaxed state where you close your eyes and trust me

The sanctions that have been stated and lock-down measures that have been taken
have driven my endurance and qualify-able quest for knowledge into the necessity for tender touch
the need for entangled intimacy that can only be suppressed like a towel at the bottom of
the tattered laundry basket for so long before the mold begins to grow

each time it gets a little easier

to be quiet like a spider
and wait patiently web intact with glorious looms
ready to wrap you in a loving embrace

And it's been years that I've been examining the steps
replacing action from past mistakes

Reservation

The sun rise from the tree tops creates the illusion that there are hills and valleys
through every flooded yard, acrid field, creek and culvert.

I've been trying to reach this place in my dreams where I can see
my sister and every time I manifest a room with a door that she can walk through
we have a conversation, an action that hasn't happened in almost a year now.

I've been laying low, down in the valley, close to the banks of the Great Miami
where bodies for centuries have been tossed next to paper waste, fish eggs
and needles full of viscous plant matter seen as pleasure.

I've been sitting quietly and most nights I wait patiently
as long as my stimulation is satiated.
I have been listening to the movements of familiar mouths
and watching how my own reflection is no longer in
parallel like it was during days of dick's den and dube burgers.

I now take my connection to the next level without conscious awareness
of what I'm actually asking. I request meetings in the woods, in the
ephemeral space of music creation and on alters.

Days like Yesterday

This is the year of the sacred goddess
although every day is a day to tap
into the feminine if I can let it in.

There is a violence that is fighting the enlightenment.
The spin of the Yin and the centrifuge of the Yang
are always in the a revolution, a centrifuge of exact opposites.
There's a need to hold onto the geodes and crystals
with your face on the wet soil and a yearning
to let go of all of your possessions, pack up
your heart and fly into the arms of the unknown.

Is it like this for everyone?
Are there generations of people who are manically
changing their minds and acting on it?
 Does stability elude them?
Do we all share pieces of them in our dreams and allusions?

There are days like yesterday when you wake up and the sound
in your eyes rumbles your tongue, the lips of your gums
spit out words that derive from the pit
of your ache and your brain is bypassed.
The people you once knew have changed from tadpoles
into frogs and the locomotion that was your life
is now a hum of highways sounds in the distance.
You search for your old clothes on days like yesterday
but they're on the backs of teens who bought them
from the thrift stores you emptied with your love on your arm.

You awaken with the knock of gun shots on your window.
This time they're not a sound of danger like two years ago
when you went to sleep hoping that the stray bullets
wouldn't graze your bed post. Now they represent a thunder
of boredom, a place where men go to release
tension and show off their biggest guns.

I hang prayer flags in the windows for the ones I've loved,
for the ones who have loved me more
than I have them and for the ones I will love in the future.
The ones who have died lie their ancient eyes
on me when I can't sleep, they blow the wind
with the windows closed and wave
the flags because I can't see their hands.

I say on days like yesterday that I am a light bearer
but I was quickly corrected by an elder
she said, child you are not a bearer of the flame
but you are the flame itself,
and so I burn
but I do not consume.
I grow but I do not take over
like a wildfire.

First house, first sign, best in show

I have a friend who fills me with expansion
and every time we meet our conversations are lengthy.

The other day we talked about robotics and teachers,
the speed and privy to information will soon be
even more accessible if we're blessed enough.

There is this friend of mine who has been
giving me the shivers.

I recently discovered that she handles
conflict through exploiting others.
Her refuge it seems is to go to malicious extremes.

Another wandering sister who knows me well
dwells with the artist inside and every time her laugh sells.

Our similarities are so deep that you would guess
that we arrived here from the same darkened trench crevice,
the place where the creatures create thier own light; Bioluminescence.

Amongst all of these Arian connections who, while uniquely providing opportunities
for vast personal reflection, I see the strongest indicator like a flashing transistor in my best friend and partner.

I am finally sailing in a space where I'm used to the rocking of the boat.
I see how my ability to choose love over fear soothes our burns
and encourages her to ameliorate, like a hot needle that guides itself in,  with a little pressure.
For every ailment, Nature has a remedy and sometimes the outcome is thick skin.

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