Water.

Posted by on 16 Sep 2011 | Tagged as: Brain Maps

I love wine

but..

they can’t seem to make it without

water.

(Even Jesus was in need of some H2O for miracles.)

“I’m the worst hooker ever.”

We should be getting paid for this.

“I told him,”

I love you from

here to the moon

and

back a trillion times.

Weeping willow fireworks.

Purple as you burn out.

Mystic breezes from above,

cool my passion’s heat down.

“However,

I will go Spartacus on your ass!

It’s not okay to eat me!”

 

We have issues…

We want the shit to go away.

Water is a basic right.

This is not done bitches!

Give us what we need.

Give us water.

T & T a poem by Tina Gill and Tallon Fassi.

Posted by on 16 Sep 2011 | Tagged as: Brain Maps

Blazin mad L’s

and I feel stupendous.

“Rarrrrrrrrarrrrrrraarrrraa”

(Air thrusting through tongue in rapid vibration.)

 

Feeling nice.

Feeling vibes.

Smoke on top of red wine.

I love you baby.

This is the dope freshness!

Must have permission slips to ride this

and

You must be this high*.

 

 

I’d rather be here now… doing this

than in a car with

the windows rolled up on the crowded highway, commuting.

Everyday we are hustling just to stay breathing.

Alive.

Sipping on Vino,

that’s what we know!

Oh the silliness.

Oyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo

Oh the silliness.

These words are delicious.

Dutch master dreams

and

Block Island Knights.

 

11:11

Posted by on 11 Sep 2011 | Tagged as: Prayers

We can’t see into each other,

staring in quizzical atrophy

masks fasened flawlessly.

Just two slack jawed art patrons

amazed and unsure and in awe.

 

 

 

 

Glosa Written by Natalie Lobe.

Posted by on 30 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Talent

…Send each of your words

like a last letter before execution,

a call carved on a prison wall.

you have no right to lie…

- Blaga Dimitrova, “Ars Poetca”

 

Think of your poem as a beacon.

Shine one word at a time

westward where licorice dolphins

play tag with ships and coral reefs

shimmer under surf.

Growing brighter toward

the oncoming night, let your beam

take note of all the dangers.

With the certainty of being heard

send each of your words.

 

Think of yourself as a keeper

surrounded by water,

watching strands of seaweed pearls

glistening under your searchlight.

Look hard at the creatures that swim,

cling to rocks, float in the ocean;

tomorrow they could be gone.

Make your every image live

for the coming generations

like a last letter before execution.

 

If we are headed for destruction

the sea would hold to the last.

Can you envision the poison?

Every city a landscape of rubble,

every forest smoldering ash.

Then imagine the whole

ocean oil-choked and stagnant,

pelicans shrouded in scum.

Speak!

Make the grief in your soul

a call carved on a prison wall.

 

Shine the beam of your lantern

straight to the core.

Tell it clean – no time to revise;

how the salt marsh breeds life,

how sea urchins pulse,

how a coral reef lives and dies.

If execution looms in the shallows,

record your vision of “now,”

you are posterity’s scribe.

You have no right to lie.

 

 

Rust

Posted by on 25 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Rants, Talent

Pulling at me,

crimson incubus of pleasure

filling hollows childhood left.

Smiles don’t clean up the mess,

beer bottles, needles and unrest.

Layers of lies webbed in your eyes while

vowing to be where you’ve never been.

Whole or half, fractional math.

You are the rust on my tin.

I don’t have heart strings

within.

Yellow Ginger.

Posted by on 19 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Rants

Darling the issue at present

is illuminating a purpose.

 

Respect is bare balls minimum,

Now baby,

who do you think your fooling?

 

 

The tears of a clown and

all that sambuca

oh honey child,

you will drowned.

 

 

 

Weak Side.

Posted by on 16 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Prayers

Glittering vastness of stardusk

achors the core of us.

Looking at you

leads me to drinking

to bleed out the thinking

which was creepin.

Your tropical heat,

a corset I won’t loosen.

Tell me your spy plans

aren’t translucent.

 

Whimsy

Posted by on 15 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Prayers

I stick out my tongue to see her mood,

tasting the weather she has brewed.

The sound of ocean sucking

pebbled stone over tidal breathe.

Lost in the burning iris of god,

Bees make homes in my rib cage.

This poem is built on mysticism and cinnamon.  

 

 

Duende

Posted by on 15 Aug 2011 | Tagged as: Home Sweet Home

Nihility is ubiquitous

thus genesis confounds.

Scintillating titillation

aquired by a donnish

enigmatic sleuth.

The authenticity of

ambient inklings.

Whimsical tokens of

globetrotting gallimaufry.

Thalassic baptism

resuscitates credence.

Silence settles situations

while mellifluous

apparitions of erstwhile

float on.

Kawala Incubator Care

Posted by on 20 May 2011 | Tagged as: Brain Maps

Thousands of miles of destinations

and curiosity’s intrigue

has compacted steam caves

encompassing my beating skin.

Crawling back within what

I’ve always known.

Poverty and taking sides on principle

are mind tricks.

Perhaps its time to reevaluate justice

an eye for an eye is

 blood lust not

healing.

Put death on display and

tell your  children to look at the ceiling?

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