PJ Bumblesticks
The man slow moves
Dressed in black without attack
A fumbler of magical herbs
And placer of silly smiles
On faces for distant miles
Styles of grace collapse
Before him in might
Of audacity, an encouraging fright
Of tenacity
A blind walk takes he
Oblivious to what he may see
A man with clasped hands held tight
Behind the back
Behind so tight
A blissful air engages
His nose with delight
Lungs light inhaled within him
Towards home goes he
To exhale that air fresh
Indignantly into plain pickle jars
Empty of air except for
His as he coughs upon the floor
Jars closed tight he places
Behind them each a tied bow
Of old shoelaces
One for each breath left within
Each jar his breath hath settled in
Anxiety less his release
Of worry and stress and needless thought
Retreat does he to
His garden groweth fair it do
Forgetting to breathe naught
In his own world sought
By mystics and birds alike
That is a world of no sense
A world of no order
Beyond distortion is his
Ultimate beyond where
The beyond of beyonds
Responds beyond words
Right here so tranquilly
Does he live while gardening
His magical herbs
Potent of mind they disturb
To a world of no sense
No order
The man slow moves
Dressed in black
Without attack
Hands again grasped tightly behind
His back on walk again
While from home away
Mr. Bumblesticks left arrayed
The magical herbs to season
The jars of his breath
Unreasoned to ferment into
Explosion beyond all distortion
Rocking beyond the
Beyond the jars burst
Breath freed to smoke burned deep
Every happy moment
In each jar broken
Free were those breaths to flee
To break the stars from paper cups
Soaking in galaxy juice sweet
All while PJ we find
Stays far behind and walks
And walks and walks unfazed
A paperclip found picks up
Does he and places it in
His pocket
Booms sound light abound
As stars fall behind and
Rise and shine
All is such that was
The message dear Bubmblesticks meant
To incline that we
Find solidarity in magic places
That dare dream of spaces
In between life and humanity
A peanut guide for the blind
PJ Bumblesticks is free
Above the ordinary insane
Another plane of time
As you will find
Awaiting when word sent
Need ask him to make
A sign once again
PJ Bumblesticks, dear man,
You’ve saved us again!
Theme for Wine
It is an evening
Mid-season some time
I sit down to sip
A glass of wine subtle nip
Twice filled before
Prior hours of hors d'oeuvres did crave
And mind runnings have begun
Sprinting in my brain
Once again I make no amends
For what I think
I think that I know of this thought
Self-taught with educational flair
My intuitions soft sweet declare
There is something in life hiding
A reality kept silent from
Itself cannot come to be
Unless already upon
This second reality
Which here is where its here is
A higher layer in which to live
And a knock snaps hard
Repeatedly upon my entrance-way door
Until no longer do I tolerate
Such incessant constant pounding
Across the room
I stumble carpeted fallings
Crooked in a crooked world
A beach of sand self-fulfilling
The door I reach
I open and see
An agent in officer clothing
Snarling face debonair
Grizzly brainwashed hair
Oh not again
It's the Thought Police
My mind he's come to shrink
A fine for time free thinking
Outside of time told true
I pay this fee indignantly
Tossed towards the man in blue
Only then begins my mouth to speak
"You're so much earlier than you were last week."
I Smell Lilacs in Autumn
Sweet Spring within
The death of leaves
Begins
Arousing strange senses
Confused states of natural bond
What I smell O wait!
What I see
My skin silver of life
Of death mortality bound
I smell lilacs in Autumn
I see flowered bloom amongst
Dead dying trees
Leaves falling surround
A blushed serenity
Sweet beautiful bloomed Spring
Glowing sweet nurturing
Warmth anew and yet
My breath brisk
Of pumpkin burnt air
I shiver
For yet I see lilacs bloom
Sweetly in all honesty
Sweetly of a woman fair
Her sweet love given me undared
Sweet Summer late
that falls away
An essence discrete
Entranced I fall dreaming
Loss of cold feet
I fall asleep upon peat
Tranquility cold dying
The dead colored leaves
Angered Ducks
They once believed the words
Of the Peppermint Rule Geese
And now quack in question
Of such
immoral faith foundation
The Day
Birds loudly sing sweet
A mixed harmony brisk
Morning's peak in sunshine wonder
To me this all foresees
The hope of midday fantasy
An adventure to begin
A dreamed desire
When my love arrives and then
Onto the excursion go we
Upon a carriage horse pathway
To marvel at nature's delights
An excursion through countryside
With preparations made
Our ride so calmly patient waits
As sunlight and shade excite me
And she passes the gate
My love so gorgeous
To me and the sky above
And then into a warm embrace
A smile to me and off
Riding we go deep
Into amorous serenity
A Painted Relativity
A wander I stroll
The museum grand and whole
All works I have seen and again been to view
Great works, great moments
Until this day today, I do see
A new feeling of endearing sublimity
A corner turned quick where what I behold
A beautiful woman pristinely painted bold
This painting so aged but I do not deter
That this young woman's face my heart does incur
To the passion her eyes so colourful seem
And her arms begin reaching out to touch me
My mind plays a trick I surely can keep
Yet her essence is warm, her aura does weep
I cannot be fooled by depictions as such
My relations are stable in skin I can touch
Yet this paint stares at me, such a manner I blush,
Knowing her eyes are the mere slight of a brush
But soon a rush again my emotions arise
Hoping for a pure personality surprise
Her ears if real into them I would sing
If only a dream then great magic I’d bring
And dance through the halls of laughter and light
Holding each other so close by the night
O how this paint captures my soul's delight
A beauty surreal like pale summer nights
But alas I must go and return to my life
A cathartic end dear and a walk back to strife
Until again I ever see her painted eyes free
Forgetting never her feelings on me
As a memory I'll keep though she's never existed
Her skin will survive as mine’s old and twisted.
I fell upon my sinking bed
I fell upon my sinking bed
Lying undreamt within
My hardened shell kicked with sin
Outside
The things
That kick me around
So big to behold
Demanding their ways upon me
Unseen
Still counted until I
Slip on high into a crack
In the sky twilight I fly
To fall into encasement
A pause of monotony
I lie upon stirred echoes
A pleasant night
And the kickers
Breaking and breaking
Breaking away
She Holds Me
So long a day
So long into the night
I am shivering cold
Shivered with fright
A self lost old in delights
She kisses me but
She then kisses me
A hug serene
Never so warm a touch ever be
To me if any in my time
My feeling warms
My body warms to her feeling
A most wonderful moment
I'm away
Away from the cold
Above all the ground
I surround her love
With a smile I touch
Her body it touches
Mine so much
A man who all things
Has handled alone
Another being outside me
Always to be
What many have called Love
She holds me
She holds me
I can sleep now
I can sleep
The Tree
The tree so green
Summer's rain weeps clean
As leaves shimmer sparkle slight
Light bled upon branches long
Tight bark wound round unseen
Roots deep as family strong
This tree to me speaks lovingly
Breathing out my breathing in
A roost for fowl and home
For creatures ungrounded to roam
A wonder of fauna free
So do I dream upon its being
By being a tree
A tree so green
As life leaves so too
Do leaves leave eventually
And still a plant to return
Unlike me
Humanity one chance around
This reminder lovingly
To grow and develop in maturity
Properly if we all could be
So green as this tree
For never so fortunate
To stay and live longer
But appreciate shall I
All that is given to me to be
As I see all of me in this tree
Greened humanity if only
Awakened to see
Such beauty that simply
Tends mindlessly
To its own life so free
This green living tree
Wet with the rains
Of natural security
Ebony Ink, Canvas Life
Glaring eyes mine stare straight,
Penetrating deep the contorted beauty
My attempt has created,
My vision grows blurry with memories,
Pain becoming a reminder of me,
Waking the dreams of past love lost.
Never such am I so blind,
Self jaded when I
Hand create the multiple worlds aligned
Of self-sacrificing eyes,
A black inked horizon fare
Brazened upon my forehead flared.
Ebony upon canvas flesh,
A stretched mind's child reflecting
What once I saw before my eyes began
To dream of the world before sunrises,
The world before breath,
Dark life pulsing bright to live,
Creation made manifest the art's life.
Away quick the ink swift lest to drip
Darkness unlimited in placement,
Just enough to be enough writhing,
Retreat my hand,
My impetus,
My roaring mind of fantasy fair,
Enhancing sweet the metaphor's call,
Memory pain and life in between,
Poisoned bliss is the beauty
Shown deep as the painted myths of my time.
A Brisk Morning
Morning cool
The full Moon sets
Sunrise wind sweet breeze soft
Against red pink turning white
A window scene
Blossoming
Bright light beam becomes
Enhanced warmth consuming swift
The brisk air
Crispness grants memory
Mine a mere moment
Short breath returns
The simple mind of youth
Emotional peacefulness
Graceful the dawn's demeanor
The day bows and begins
To me
To the world
A performance this dawn gives
So desperate to play
Unsettled anxiety
No idle waste can be
Such to call the day
Sunrise risen
Resting gentle grace upon
The treetops set a flare
An opening act made way
To a day of the greatest affair
Shelved Skin
Reach up
Reach down
Grab the Earth
Grasp the Sky
Kiss the Fires
Embrace the Air
Look forward
Look back
Never look back again
Dream in
Dream out
Always dream often
Reality is Element
Elements are Body
Body is Mind's keeper
that expresses the Elements
Breath gasp lost less control
Release dark embraces low
Uninhibited
Think within
Think not
Feel no Body
No Element felt
No Reality to reach up or down
Numbness
Body numbness before
A smile of contentment
Bill Burroughs' Bagel
(In a dream tense)
He looks at the plate
Looks then at me.
"That's IT?!?"
the old man
asks,
"Where's the ol' eggz-n-bacon?"
"Bee happy so little
can you eat
today,"
I say.
Bites.
Cough, bite,
phlegmed grumble:
"No addiction worth kickin' for THIS!"
he mumbles.
La Romantique du mathématicien et Géométrie Ancien
2 dimensional parallel
blends 4th the eight inverted triangles
bent circular round 3rd angles
of deep partial outward insight
When alone the 3rd stickman drawn
steals the hypothesis from me
and the 1st inverted reflective awe
my eyes have not seen since childhood home
Hearing time’s lectures stolen
lies stolen homes horizontal
6th fourths of breath breathed empty
in eyes unfelt of the angles abilities
If then given that when before
walking on space parallel quadrant rhines
to 4th dimensional carousel spun lines
spindled cries of geometric ties left
7 lullabies of theoretical alibies
Goodbye to the lyrical right-angled soliloquies
spoken gently by minds akin
deep within mathematical spiritualties
the stickman has drawn
Angles left circumference cross-paralleled
contradictions to win
the heart of the Number’s sweet dreams
Pour le bord de temps vais-je errent maintenant
Drawing
Glaring eyes mine stare straight,
Penetrating deep the contorted beauty
My attempt has created,
My vision grows blurry with memories,
Pain becoming a reminder of me,
Waking the dreams of past love lost.
Never such am I so blind,
Self-jaded when I
Hand create the multiple worlds aligned
Of self-sacrificing eyes,
A black inked horizon fare
Brazened upon my forehead flared.
Ebony upon canvas flesh,
A stretched mind's child reflecting
What once I saw before my eyes began
To dream of the world before sunrises.
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