Sunday, November 21, 2010

Stop the Night Sky




Stop the night sky, and be all.
Let us dance here.
     Could the old gal win at dice?
     For sure she will,
Her smokey laugh is so good.

Look, they have lost patience.
Walking raven, have clever respect.

Heal with deep breath, they show takings,
 from my milky faithful passion.
    An almost better, me,
     What psychedelics are found in art?

Chat to our glorious married daughter.


with Jojo Monson 9/6/06, 31, 32, 33

The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

I See Sculptures



Manic sculptures, empty after beauty.
A husband of an angel, beside his home.
Soon dark despair will laugh, famously.

Come obsessive partner,
   understand your finger,
      follow the absurd girl,
         who wants a dust mountain.

Fast, write, draw. Use this to progress.
Handle it. Is she free
   of banal ideas?
My perfect sister,
   comes to fill my wild dates.

Imagine my instrument can give peace.

I am smoke.

with Jennifer Chicheportiche 9/5/06, 32, 33, 34


  The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Draw Always




Draw above the canvas,
so prize only a symbol.

More pain to scale,
with the edge to give ideas.

My perfect sound is still ugly.
Young babe,
     demand when we make deep sky.

Trash bad wood,
     it shows in you a sad Mother.

Good society means serious heart.



with Jennifer C_ 10/11/06, 33, 34, 34-2,  35

The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Model



Model, play your companion hard,
Laugh when in such a worry.

Finest life bothers,
feeling crushed he breaks a new competition

Why am I fashion!
Kiss when the no's have space
I feel letters, like silent patients,
they reach behind the vintage act.

We represent the Null, Pal,
"Howl" we said,
"Discover Him in Mother Dust, as beggars!"

See in front, passion, power!
Your wasted selves appear many.

Could I question Father,
Know or understand?
To learn inclusive dark earth.

What could I please?
To sculpt her glorious smear?
Here, mellifluous style's above opportunity
We give from Love, free thought.

Come, Lost Infant.


with JF, December 5, 2006, 34, 35, 36

'What Did She Mean?'






  The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

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