Becoming Undone

Now that it’s over with,
Now that it’s set and done,
Love is a selfish act
For one to become.
Now that the heart is settled, all through
Past judgments or mistakes
Are thrown askew.
Now that all is healed, it feels
Like a silly dream
Where poor souls do wander
In the heavy stream.
Now that it’s over with,
Many moons ago
A foolish woman
A whole year younger
Can finally let go.
Now that seasons pass,
Smelly turns to clean,
All it takes is a wash
Of all that once was mean.
Life is beautiful
In all its beauty,
And things aren’t what they seem.
Now that thoughts are free to go,
A life, pulled up, will gleam.
Now that every stinking hole
Plugged up, pushed in,
Like a hidden mole,
Will never again be seen.
There is still one question
Avoiding here,
One idea that will never know

The answer.
Does it really even matter?
Now that everything’s past,
Present can sink
Its meaty teeth
Into a new perspective,
One that lasts
To never pass
Inside the foolish realm
Of Love
again.
Now that it’s over with,
Now that it’s set and one,

Love was a frivolous act to solely become



undone.

My Trixster Heart

A positive life burns inside me
brightly,
as tall tales stand sideways and glimmer
on the mottled trees outside.
Shrouded by light and heart squeezed,
vastly proficient beyond short compromises.
An itching, for you, bubbles in my gut,
constituting what it means to be

Human.

I have a Trixster Heart.

Blowing up the world in smiles,
little bursts of sunshine and giggles.
Spirits float around me
as ghosts and shamans are mentioned.
Witches cackle inside,
because I know the truth.
Living in a past place of Goddesses;
I’ve found another.
(Mills World).
The fact of where I come from
makes who I am
more real
than any fact or claim
written in a textbook or spoken from a teacher’s mouth.

Vastness invades;
deeper and deeper it goes
within my body and my brain.

I have a Trixster Heart.

Not lying or falsifying
by making up by jumbles of words.
No rules to hold me down
‘cause my knotty soul
lightens up the mood in every room.
Compelling me to gaze past myself
and reflect on the rain, slippery,
pouring down outside.
Pervading experiments that
volute normality and string together.
In miracles, I swim;
In beats and heat.

It’s magical.

My sorcery embeds each spank of life
with clarity, as I fool negative emotions
to flip to positive thinking.
Optimistic passions
play with me as I fiddle with the curve called “reality.”

I have a Trixster Heart.

Messing with thoughts I am a figure of nature;
interconnected to planted reason
Caused by past experiences.
It is so much fun,
swapping spit and grime
for fluff and value.
Pretty objects flutter on by,
as I, embedded with invisible spirit friends,
breathe in their glowing all-knowing light.

They live in the trees,
form into houses,
floats in animal bodies,
fit into supernatural creatures
of the whole world’s imagination.
What is left is muffled snickers stickered to me as I dance
through the cognitive layers
until I hit
The mind;
situated in another paradox mine.
How do you know what I will be?
Why do I do what I do?
Wait, better yet,
expect nothing less
than magic spinning
outta my ass.

I have a Trixster Heart.

Violating the rules
I turn meaningless fixtures
onto questioning God
and what it is
and what I am.
There is no answer
but I smirk and grin
when I see people try.
Still light and failing to strike them fully
I toy and trigger the grasps that hold
together my sure-bound beliefs.
I’m pushing the envelope farther than you
can even
imagine.
There are no limits to my knowledge.

I have a Trixster Heart.

[Untitled]

I’ve never wanted writing
so much.
Throw a bag; now throw a punch.
Give it all you’ve got
before the mind goes home.
click, then shove it out
now let the body roam.
Slam the keys; now slam them well.
never bet
the winning tell.
Help is only
on the way
once the mind
has much to say.
Give it all your will
the first bite of my lunch.
I’ve never wanted fighting
so much.
Throw a pen; now throw a punch.

Inside/Outside

Prideful Intact.
Lopsided swindle
Downsized Rap

Backwards/forwards

The little tykes go
So far that they
Tumble
So far that they
Roam

Outside/inside

Opposite day
Where happiness fumbles
And sickness delays.

Forwards/backwards

Stop step hop

Lay upside down
Wiggle, then plop!

Shadows on ceiling
White toes are peeling
Wet hair is screaming
While blankets just flop.

[Untitled]

Can you be both
pornographic
and
romantic?
Can you be both
stoic
and
heroic?
Can you be both
a killer
and
a filler?
Can you be both
persuasive
and
abrasive?
Can you be both
plastic
and
fantastic?
Can you be both
unfulfilled
and
bottle-swilled?
Can you be both
robot
and
coin-slot?
Can you be both
Botched perfection
and
soiled complexion?
Can you be both
On par
and
still so far?
Can you be both
alone
in your very own
time zone???

Can you be both
carried away
and
want to stay?
Can you be both
wretched
and
frigid?
Can you be both
weirded out
and
seared with doubt?
Can you be both
heavily written
and
smugly smitten?
Can you be both
an angel
on
some dark new level?
Can you be both
Minted coin
and
willing to join?
Can you be both
ragged bone
and
super alone?
Can you be both
Strongly cemented
and
fairly demented?
Can you be both
scared stiff
and
piled drift?
Can you be both
Limp wood
and
stocky food?
Can you be both
Crying ends
and
ending friends?
Can you be both
pornographic
and
romantic?
Can you be both
finished
and
famished
and
completely pretend?