The rhythmic pulsations of a dreaming planet awaken within me.
My role has become similar to that of a solid gold dancer.
I move, in a way my inner senses demand,
a way, which inspires the observers,
I don't even know what it looks like,
but the responses I get from the audience
and fellow dancers, makes it clear,
I must keep dancing in just this way.

Her arms are wrapped around a million dreams
who's inhabitants snap and attack
then recede,
always attentive to the shift of her likes.
A pre-apocalyptic protocol to inspire a million more
longing for the intrinsic relationship this one has been caressing since birth.

The boy touches the feather in his hat,
he pulls the hat off to closer examine it's immaculate beauty,
a pigeon feather?
a pigeon feather, the grays mingling to perfectly with the whites
immaculate as the red armed man
with a swarming body of eyes
who walks, guided by the flying umbrella queen
through green undulating tides of change.
The spacious grace she's conceived and constructed
arduously adorned and carefully caressed into a fun house of creative furry.

She's gathering about her an army
microscopic titans
who's bodies shape shift into the exacted forms she needs
This war will not be televised
at least, not in the normal sense of the word,
The only screen that's important to this battle is that which projects
the subjects onto the objective field of the minds eye
where YOU are the messenger, capturer, pertinent articles of revelation revealer.
Your heart explodes at the notion,
bulldozers push mountains of flat screens into a forgotten and useless pile
miles and miles line the barren fields
marking on her body
the exodus avenues
which lead to renewal

before

after

-----------------------------

oh my, oh my, oh ma
haaaaaaa...
so precious little time
and tender vittles falling
from feasting round tables still sitting,
your heart is tender
mainly wheels turning
and inability to taste
leaves scalding marks
on already sensitive skin.
tempted to turn and run
but alas
the case is never truly solved
by a judge with no heart.
so around the concrete campfire
you dance with bass drums
as loud and deeply growling as ever
you
and your love of dinosaurs
and a powerful tenderness you can't touch.
I standing slowly
wings outstretching
carefully
always through lenses
of immaculate conception
learning to taste
longing to ignite
she inviting all to dance
regardless
regardless
regardless.

-----------------------------

THE COUNTRY GIRL

how many dots
in a row must be drawn
in order for you to realize
the screen is capturing
the beautiful gift that is you
and I?
like a spinster pterodactyl
standing outside the abandoned
wall-street-mart bidding floor
you hoist yourself laughingly into
the sky cave remembrance machine

like two black cats kissing
the "I want to trade REAL names
within you function" gradually opens
like a budding rose,
a scent who's timeless fragrance enters the human heart
to reveal the light that lay beneath.
the dismembered plastic arm of your cobra commander action figure
becomes a toothpick for your pet dragon
as antennae of pure gold sprout from your
well cared for head.

3 words are written on the inside
of your left eyelid
LET ME IN

and on the right lid
3 more
LET ME OUT.

She's as country as a country girl could be,
even when she's not holding her guitar
scrumptious, savory,
as real as the first time you took LSD.
like lightning flashes on the desert floor
that create crystalline flowers that transmit
and receive the messages of your mothers heart.
as well as professor keen-beam
who's card is drawn to create the pods
of I's for transmission.
The truth is simple
and profoundly potent
if you are claiming your bags in denver
go to carrousels 1, 5, and 8.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

here are some images from the show

You and the Puzzle

Catapulting pigeons send beaming
rainbow light from unicorn horn beaks aflame,
like your achey breaky heart,
burning
engulfing the world like a sword
the size of fifty six million king kong blow up dolls.
A state you seem to keep winding up in.

Born into a puzzle whose pieces seem to be your life,
but you'll be damned if you can figure out where they go
seeing as how the previous owner lost the cover box
with the original picture...
now the pieces reside in a ziplock bag which sits
on the coffee table and makes you wince
every time you walk by and happen to glance at it.

But the burning hearted king kong sword wielding captains room
within the recesses of your mind seems to keep docking
on the pier of your daily existence
and even though the smell of fish (which you've always hated)
is thick
you decide to follow the intrinsic dial a date
instinct bliss button within sight mechanism
and you
place a few pieces on the table and look at them.

You have NO idea where they go
BUT
a big step has been taken,
you, sitting, contemplating the nature of what the bigger picture
might be
by looking at these variously obscure and seemingly
incomprehensible chunks.
you and the puzzle

friends
comrades
lovers.

Here is a test,
to sit and interpret
that which fidgets in the higher recesses of mind.
a taste test to gauge the internal structure.
like perfectly placed china in a glass house.
arranged in a unified sequence with no folly placed secretly so that the house might shake and all the china would crash into each other and the house, everything shattering into a million billion pieces.

boring,
then it'd be like some movie, like most movies, where an emotional bone is thrown and the placated audience sits, prone, on the edge of their seats waiting for the moment when that thing is going to happen,
and tragedy ensues everyone's bent out of shape and they leave the theatre feeling like they got hit by a truck.
what is that?
This is insightful,
not an investment for my capital, but insightful none the less
to feel the slow death of that thing inside me which gets to decide the fate of my own internal "oh crap what's gunna happen next" mechanism,
cause for me the glass house is there and it's perfect, immaculate!
I don't care how many big shot movie makers, school yard bullies, external controllers of others destinies walk by and try to sneak a rock throw, the glass house remains, and every piece of china is in place just perfectly so according to the dictates of my mind,
you can huff and puff and blow down your own piece of the show but mine will remain.
And as things generally play out around subjects such as words coming out of mouths, I'll probably invite you over for tea, so we can share some of our perfection mind stew to the best of our abilities. It's a more co-operative adventure.
one that really does it for me
no big screen 3d virtual mind hump
can compare with the reality of the miracle of your eyeballs
and the vibratory countenance which corresponds to
ONLY your throat, only your heart, You and only you.
a gift in gods garden
a perfect little twig on the end of a
VERY VERY big tree,
you, the bird, i the squirrel
sharing the sunlight.
Boxing up the box office into dice,
that we can throw
or not.

shiendra

-------------------------------------
UNCOMFORTABLY PERFECT
he sits, with a pro-staff 3 golfball, a sprig of fresh rosemary and a cup of matcha tea.
The train does not move.
in-directly the stars spiral
into the upper recesses of his gong tower.
the tall tale teller quivers slightly
like a 30 foot tall giant bamboo in a wind burst.
the air is hot, the smell of his zapatista scarf Sweet
and Succulent,
a scent which ignites the
"I want to make love to myself"
voice deep in his being.
You have no idea.
Intrinsically quizzical bronze monkeys cluster around his brain,
dancing and squirting thin streams of liquid gold.
he smiles.
his golf ball falls off the table and rolls over to the fancy chair's
wooden leg.

I'm definitely not an early riser.
I ate at a fancy french restaurant
she hands me a cup of tea
matte chai "I made it kinda strong, we could share it, I could add more water to it.
cut it in half"
Jerry gets sticks to start the fire.
my stomach growls
i wonder at the nature of us, as opposed to just her being here.

MANTIS EGG CASE: Jerry- my body rejected it instantly.
Puer 2 places - the tao of tea, rishi tea company "it's green"
"I switch off all the time cause I even get tired of things that are really good".

A NARROW PASSAGE
TOMORROWS TOOTHPASTE
SHE ACHES FOR FATHERS ASHES
JUST MISSING THE STORM
SHE FRAMES
SHE RENDERS
SHE INVOKES INSIDE OF I THE QUESTION OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE
THAT OF
REMEMBRANCE.
AN ALLIES ADVANCE INTO STATIONS BEYOND MEER APPEARANCE
A RELATIONSHIP THAT WREEKS OF BEING THOUSANDS OF YEARS OLD
WITHOUT QUESTION
WE.

The green light captures me
A legacy
variables of form
ALL ALLIES
in the end
the final consummation and rebirth
as sure as mother knows your name
each one, her child, each one, a butterfly of the sun.

accept life (that which is always and ceaselessly given)
as a gift for higher service.
she renders herself not in the gift that is given
but in the giving and giver of the gift.
her ability to offer service relies solely on your ability to accept her body as yours
and consequently, her means for transmutation and evolution,
with THE BEING as the principle directing agent of change for all growth.

NO MISTAKES, NO MARVELS, NO SUPER HEROES, ONLY CACTUSES
AND HAPPILY CONTAGIOUS GREGORIAN BULL FROGS, SINGING DELICATE HYMNS TO NATIONS AND NATIONS OF SMILING PEOPLE AND MARTIANS AND MODERN MYSTERY SCHOOL GYPSY SCIENTISTS
WHO TASTE
AND TRANSLATE
THAT WHICH, AND OUT OF SHEER NECESSITY, WILL MUTATE.
THE TRUTH, LIKE SWORD WIELDING GODDESS
CLAIMS HER VICTIMS
WITH THE SAME NURTURANCE SHE HAS ALWAYS GIVEN
SINCE THE BEGINNING
AN AWAKENING
SURELY
AN AWAKENING,
A HEAVENLY VORTEX OF LIGHT OPENED, LIKE A MILLION BILLION SUNROOFS AT ONCE.

she folds her body over the floor
she falls into the carpet
surrendering
she removes her peacock feather earrings. she irradiates love,
every movement a testimony to becoming gods will through every intent of your being
so bright
this one
she who longs so deeply to render each moment of her existence to dharma, for each interaction to be an opportunity to bring forth that which she cultivates.
the canvas recreates her
upside down
"this insane funny new body thing"
it smells like casserole
something
she laughs hysterically about her friendly and regularly visiting queefs.
the young one gurgles his toothache blues track,
destined for glory
a king without question
an emissary of the light.

do the dreamers I's truly make a difference
in the end?
are they not all skywalkers
in the end?

to translate in subtle yet deathly accurate details
the means for their survival
a task she musk grant to each and every one
but this is not WORK
the way the humans have come to think of it

there are no punch cards in her life
her body IS and therefore
her work is done
dancing with her dearest lover
she gives birth
to you
and longs for you to seek her out
within your own heart.