So You Talk of Music

Gulag hands haven’t hurt her.

Our master, please, model always above, see romance.

Look sharp, on Crete a mother of film wants luscious delusions.

Come, you and I . . .

Get how a baby's green harmony,

This mare above him, was caught.

Smother us in a black limpid experiment.
Joy is about canvas, young-headed, sleep.

My mate, such a wild chant is Music.

Heal, have control over us! Patience! 

No time to tell about more glorious endeavors.

If Time could think . . . our anger would have every faithful share.

Balance, cuddle with empty color. Did you die?

Shimmer about rain,

Start weak sweet Daughter, choose your subject.

A fire-eye filled in light, symbols I see, offer unity,

They wasted my other canvas.

Film my aesthetic, you can use it 'till he creeps around babbling.

Choose an old soft ritual about fresh life.

Model, play your companion hard -here howls a beautiful language,

A liar's metal instrument, is totally afraid.

May you please comfort us, you won't cover all love!

Seek your last thought in Beauty

All motion starts me questioning . . .

Sculpt Angel, fill a glorious missive . . .


March 1, 2012 w/ Kerri Taylor, 3, 4, 4-2, 5

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

Take Health

Mark, take new health,
From which lagoon is the rainbow serpent from?

I could always enjoy sublime pleasure,
Tossed together, the monstrous scandal.

Vain red-faced hypocrite, show any skeleton to me.
Go. Discover music, like stormy breath.

Be obsessed, make metal quick,
Droll-natured neighbor.

Leave blunt creativity there,
If surreal courage glitters incarnate.

Drive better when instruments have a new voice.
Such past diagnoses see whether lions celebrate art.

Her man dances wild original vibrations,
Insolent rabble can't dare appear afraid.

Sad words give help.
Your puny cat kills a spider.

He will investigate a mechanical jungle,
Follow through, one hearted day.

Smile, drink your vintage tea,
And observe, vain equality.

Your sure fingered music happens,
Old forbidden brain food.

Twin fights with phobia, but to satisfy thought,
Rupture your loathsome lust.

In storms, a summer memory,
Gives her high talk, under some wall.

Parasite, show how society beat wrath.
Afraid of desire, abandon your velvet pictures together.

Go and make a supernatural death represent nature.
Fresh perfume she'd make on-site.


March 1, 2012 w/ Kerri Taylor, 59, 60, 60-2, 61

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

The Way In

And indeed today pain was mouthed . . . .
The dance got bitter . . .
And she defeated us both. . . .
But we are like cats. . .
able to nimbly navigate . . .
through the open obsessive work.
Therein lies our way. . .
The way in is the way out.

MWP, date unknown, 53, 54-1, 54-2, 55

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

Every Monster Bird

Whatever ugly monster bird keeps dancing,
Curious passions hard, make rotten liars puny.

Whisper in my fire, please investigate why I see you,
Slither, dirty scab, here's an original wall to
manipulate money through red and violet.
Rascal, have better fantasies, giggle, to satisfy.
Know harmony..

Flashlight cat eyes I understand.
Drink, be cured. Cruise some underlying soul.
Understand, scratch our empty noses.
Sucker, celebrate your dirty vulture breath,
Or puke.

A woman's hormone cramps seem fooled.
Try to favor unknown kindness.
Meet, we'll know your fragile language.

Be the aesthete I'm wanting,
Cat fingers twinkle at me.
Destroy passion, always bring warmth.

Together we reconcile, and steal slippery desire.
But pressure will smile.
Psychology's instrument comes from number.

Who keeps your frivolity down?
Will emotions deal, help vary the experiment?
Wrath as he glitters, makes real love.

Clean witted space, a neighbor's name said,
Toast the righteous slippery encounter.
How a party kicks head and heart,
In your studio incarnate.






with Niki Rubin 6/23/11, 60, 61-1, 61-2, 62

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