Things I Want to Understand
The world of subtle specifics
of men in play, affect and fashion
like soporific maneuvers of Pétanque
to the pig, foreskins, those who wore ulsters
in Victorian England, and the cigarette of
Bill Evans sticking out his mouth
like a writer at his piano
sucking on a pen
~ Lady
Hard to say the when and where of
such and such’s from, could’ve been carried
from Mesopotamia to North Africa
or vice versa
Manufacturing’s a melange,
numerous raw attributions dug out of the dirt
by happenstance or planning, gleaned
or traded learning
To know the when and where of it’s
like ascribing butterflies to words fused into
interstitial glass and ground in the crucible or
baked to efflorescent faience
The sum greater-than-its-parts
like the sun shining through a stained glass
mosaic, oculi omnium panoptic glaze melded
to transcendence–the curio that is loved
and examined
~ Lady
A bird’s deliberate nest
held in pearled knots of leaf,
cloth budges with calico shrubs
and shapes, packing the tapestry full
with hearty aggregations
Sudden surprise having heaved
a gasp, cloud floats the aftermath,
spilling story through the land,
wetting wefts of water lapping
rooted Jeremiah trees
Hale honey legged bees trickle filling
recesses of density, being buzzing over itself
like Escher rabbits leaping
dazzled doves
~ Lady
Little girls in spring
Making plans for the universe
Bright as onion grass
Fat fingers proffer bouquets
Softness caps the season
~ Lady
CRAYONS
Mark of childhood pixel-width
cudgels of impressions, ideas
about the features of
people, animals,
landscapes,
homes and hearts
on paper,
walls
Remembering use of
crayons, feel in fingers tired
after so much filling in frustrations
breakage
Wanting to convey
but with such seemingly
crude instruments like
aspiring to paint a Dali
with a stick
How at some point
crayons fell away, waxy larval husks
of young childhood
And how then
remembered fondly
animist impressions
unfettered mind
~ Lady
BRINGING IT
There’re ways
To push through
And bring it
Through this body
Through this veil
Arms stretched
Hands cupped, full of useful things
Like apples and nails
I walk about, I press it
Breathing steady, sweet, I flute it
Feeling the hinted, I get it
Learn words to the song
Talk such it feels good
Cumberless and fluid
Fall to roles and rollicking
Dance better
Charm You
~ Lady
DREAMING
She’s under starlight on a park bench
Lincoln park in Cleveland
Head down in her chest, she dreams
a magic hour, dreams
She wakes a magic hour world
Queen Maab on a park bench
Dream blinking from her eyelashes
meets dream under starlight
Fairies’ve laid a jam and butter sandwich
on a blanket by her side
Milk and honey
sweet cold water
fruit and nuts
A bite like a kiss into white bread
delicious provisions and memories
of her childhood
Holy feral night in her little church
in the park under the stars
Moon her sun
She picks her lyre
up out of her bag lady disguise bags
She plucks and wakes up sparrows
who adjust in roosts with nips
and muffled chirps for hours
waiting for daybreak
When lucid light of suntime comes
she visits Civilization
for coffee
~ Lady
YOU GUYS’S PLANETS
Resting in the cradle of the vernacular
that babble, however it was I learned it
Innocently I let myself into it as that’s
what we did
Remembering that
I can’t get angry with anyone
Peace;
anything you want can be yours in time
Radio sings to me
Anything you want
Peace
I come in peace;
live long and prosper
All you guys’s planets
That’s what I say
“You guys’s” for gals and guys
a democratization of address
Everything I love,
ideas and known objects
orbs in my meditation space
it’s all interesting
Conjugations of their circulations
I peace, you peace, we peace, one peaces
And whatever this’s called:
happy, happier, happiest, happily, etc.,
although I’d like to just rest in happy
not think about what else
I can stuff into it
just let the ers and est’s
happen naturally via dividend
of good practices
and grace
I’d like to observe
as though everything a mobile and
me with soft baby’s skin
gentle babble
light touch
~ Lady
PURR STRUMMING UP THE GOOD STUFF
I’m gonna drum it up and hum it up and
strum it up…
I’m gonna shape the shapes,
the ones I’d like to walk through
cool back o’ cat, tail swaying way
walking answer through the doorway
of a question
I’m gonna be it
and believe it
both before
and when
I see it
I’ll pray on my knees
or meow like the wind
calls the absolute
Tight
I’ll yoke on
the cat’s cradle steering wheel
hands that cycle seasons,
the commitments
And kindle good energy
through my chakras,
loose spine tinkle
my steering wheels
too
And when I need it
the self-reliant conjuring bulk
of my generative purr
I’m going to open my spread,
cat stretching back scratching carpet
salting all from the axis
of the midnight sun
to the lap
of Capricorn
Fertility of diversity
from obtuse to acute
Avenues, lines, cradle,
so many pickup sticks,
longitudes and latitudes
Whiskers
Kat scratched spectrums of
meditative reflections
~ Lady Purr
BITCHES BREW TRIBUTE NIGHT
A house in a tornado of sound
A spaceship heft with music
Imagine you were hammering
on that house for the first time, hammering
in the basement, on the roof, Thor finding roof
with your hammer, all anti-gravity, finding where
the shingles go, floating loose with your steering wheel ear
Could you imagine if you were
the architect and the carpenter and got
to hold that fucking hammer?
What if you were holding
that fucking hammer on your spaceship,
Miles above Earth, banging out the orbit,
inventing the most important work
in the Universe
~ Lady