scorpiomoon
11-07-2007, 07:06 PM
1)
You love me
Like a scientist loves
His experiments
Nothing you do can break me
Can't be watered down
Nothing mixes with me
I am my own element
The newest
data compiled from A to Z
tells what you found
then says:
The test
alters the result
2) Libido up
I dreamt I saw two poets hail a taxi
in Jerusalem, headed for the Wailing Wall
Meditating
listening to Monk's chant
the moon is a mad white dress
the earth,
calm mother of water
I chant and spread primal wildness
Mystics scent
my longing for madness
toward Rapture
I move closer
Carrying extra wood and water
3) Poem to Geronimo
I am in a canyon
Heads and horses pop up on the horizon
the only thing that can save me
Is to find Geronimo
This poem is of the millenia
It is of my life as an article of intrusion.
messages blocked
by thoughts of the heart (lust gadget)
by thoughts of the body(seismograph)
born where its hot she says
my ideas
my dreams
are surrounded
4) Untitled original
love that time when my poems flew out the
car window along a Georgia highway
Oh yeah the "lost" poems
cast out into the open air
to become "whatever"
mystical almost, except it was Georgia
and some cracker probably picked them up
blew a loogie or spit a tobacco wad into them
crumple them up on the side of the highway
oh sure
I say
and
yeah
The red clay of Georgia still burns
from Atlanta to the sea
Wonder why??
Don't ask me
You love me
Like a scientist loves
His experiments
Nothing you do can break me
Can't be watered down
Nothing mixes with me
I am my own element
The newest
data compiled from A to Z
tells what you found
then says:
The test
alters the result
2) Libido up
I dreamt I saw two poets hail a taxi
in Jerusalem, headed for the Wailing Wall
Meditating
listening to Monk's chant
the moon is a mad white dress
the earth,
calm mother of water
I chant and spread primal wildness
Mystics scent
my longing for madness
toward Rapture
I move closer
Carrying extra wood and water
3) Poem to Geronimo
I am in a canyon
Heads and horses pop up on the horizon
the only thing that can save me
Is to find Geronimo
This poem is of the millenia
It is of my life as an article of intrusion.
messages blocked
by thoughts of the heart (lust gadget)
by thoughts of the body(seismograph)
born where its hot she says
my ideas
my dreams
are surrounded
4) Untitled original
love that time when my poems flew out the
car window along a Georgia highway
Oh yeah the "lost" poems
cast out into the open air
to become "whatever"
mystical almost, except it was Georgia
and some cracker probably picked them up
blew a loogie or spit a tobacco wad into them
crumple them up on the side of the highway
oh sure
I say
and
yeah
The red clay of Georgia still burns
from Atlanta to the sea
Wonder why??
Don't ask me