Wednesday, August 08, 2012

It's all solid gold for those who know the worth

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

~ We went to the animal faire ~
~ All the animals wore human masks ~
~ We couldn't quite tell if it were:
1) More frightening than bizarre
2) Or vice the verse
~ A wild tribe of chimpanzees
{all running // to & fro}
in their off-shored, cyber-tech, CEO masks
that they may
close the deal
while stealing valuable informata
from wide eyed spectators
'Oooh'-ing & 'Ahhh'-ing
as ridiculous prices skyrocketed ~
~The animal faire! Thee animal faire!~
~Snakes smiling shyly to discuss
their shining sheen~
~Timid chicks flocking
for their supper's dinner~
~Sheep frill up their faces
while sashaying their bums~
~ Plummed does the Heron queen traipse
lightly down the Pine
searching out poppies
to make mild her mind~
~The animal faire! The animal faire!~
~What a glorious contrivence!~
~ A garage full of Ethiopian Hyenas
forever checking fluids;
changing tires;
slamming concrete weary Pigeons
into the passenger side~
~Jackal laughter rings throughout
to bounce of the dull corrugation
"Now you make money, my friend!
Everybody makes some kind of money
when they come to this circus!"~
We went to the animal faire... (da-dum)
The birds and the bees were there... (da-dum)
The big baboon, by the light of the moon...
Was combing his auburn hair...

Friday, May 25, 2012

All We Have Is What We Need

It never ceases to amaze me how much is taken for granted
stars were assigned their transitus before the beginning 
of this age
still and deep
congratulations are in order
at the newest discovery
of human achievement  

You think this ain't love?

Sounds float up from the street
Speed Street; O'Farrell Street
streets are streets
upon their surface 
paths do meet
by chance 
or precisely manufactured plan

That probably ain't love either, huh?

The coloration of the flora
blooms and decays; blooms and decays
over a matter of heat
through these calendared days
from May to May

Accredited to which law; in which universe?

Poetry grows on trees
Pictures are manufactured by bees
Buzzards circle the cul-de-sac 
for reasonable rates
(on home loans)  
“Eww! I hate it when he goes dark, with these.”

Honestly. Is love too playful for you?

Time's gear house is running down
-Happens every so often-
so say the shaman of the maize
so say the cosmic cats
with their focus of eons away
purr and chirp through the haze
all through the night
as the sky gives way

Love is light

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

Holiday Treatment - PopMass Style -
{From Entirety - pmpope 2009}

trip the lights over a silvered garland tangle
as certain moments erupt
(eight toed-skink & hula albino)
You must hang fire
Jolly full of holiday folly
call it a wreath of holly w/ berries
lay it upon the mattress of time
for the dark nighted wynter
bemused of silent family cruisings
apply an extra finger to the nog
Turn on the light
inside your 'art
softly, tenderly praying
the angelic hosts
to scorch & torch & toast
everything not made as work
of the Divine in this season of joy
no one needs a money grubbing martyr
needlessly nodding
in a parking garage of life
spent in solitary hunt & peck
for the next chunk of sky
to fall
in the form of a government check
there is no intrigue for the corrupt worldly
a stale crust of week old pie
as the last object consumed
takes its' place beneath the browning tree
buried by squirrels;
forgotten by January
You can't spell 'Merry Christmas!'
with an 'x'
acrost your heart
May as well
drop your coin
on the dark horse
take the ride
& shine the light

~pmpope 2009