a warning

attraction is weird

and often destructively

sets the world askew

set them free

Twice this week in San Francisco

I saw women, trans women, smile

And nod when they were greeted.

But they were silent, mute swans

Unwilling to speak, silenced by shame

Or fear, or I don't know what

It doesn't matter to me why.

What is see is that my sisters, finally

Free, finally themselves, don't feel free

Respect for all, love, compassion

Fear and Assholery

Fear can keep us safe

But mixed with assholery

It leads to hatred

Concubine

 I wish I was A concubine in A harem Pampered all the time Fed delicacies Occasionally fucked Perfect life for The mentally ill who Struggle to survive life

Old mower

 Funny how our perceptions change. I saw a mower and thought, "that's a nice old mower." Then I thought, and realized I remember when that lawnmower was the new model. It wasn't so long ago. It was fresh and clean and new and exciting. It didn't look a bit old. I admired old mowers then too. Can't quite find words to say why. They give me a bit of a contented feel -- some joy. Makes me poetic. Here's two haikus. You can read them as one poem or two, I don't mind. The poet Paul Celan said that a poem is like a message in a bottle thrown out into a sea. Once you throw a message in a bottle into the sea it's not yours anymore. It belongs to the finder. They'll read it, (or not), how and as they please and it then has the meaning it has to them.

A nice old mower

Sharpened blade clean plug fresh gas

Working still just fine

A nice old mower

With its bends and curves just right

It gets the job done

I love new mowers too, don't get me wrong. It's a completely different feeling though. More excited.

Community

He sat beside me

Counting haiku syllables

My soul expanded

Taste of Alone

I want to be alone
No complicating ties
Finding peace as I can
Cradling my distraught heart

Across a room someone looks,
Voicelessly speaking of
Burning incomprehensive connection
Of slanting glancing desire

All is all – to much – not enough
Racing heart elates
I dance my love until I'm
Scheherazade no time and

I want to be alone
No complicating ties
Finding peace as I can
Cradling my tormented heart

Leave me alone in darkness

Some of us

Some of us are broken
Some of us suffer
Some of us, while we
Do not identify with you,
See each other clearly

Do you want to hurt yourself?
Do you want to see blood get outside?
Do you want to feel the cut cut cut of expression
Do you want to find yourself, to be expressed with self harm?

Well, you should know
Some of us do. It is better.
It is better if we self harm.
It is b3tter to feel the knife, the cut,
The self pain that makes us better.

Do you want to judges us?
Do you want to be a dick?
Do you want to steal our survival
Do you value ideas over life?

Fuck you. We try to live
If we can

Revolving Door

The dance
Enter just so
Cooperating
In the pushing
Taking care
Of each other

Titrating the level of danger

The One Who Knows

Inside
A being
Don't look!
Don't look!
Don't think about it!
They are not them
You don't find them by looking
Instead balance
On the moment
Like a wild unicyclist
Then will you see
Then you will be

A small filtered soul

Sifted
Refined
Made just so
Gentle into the world

Where?

I must look for you
To make myself totes fulfilled
Where's my other self?

You don't get to know if I'm crying.

The Stench of Life

The depth - the dark
You think it something - Nothing
An end -- it's not
You think the stench repels

I celebrate
Life, truth, the arousing
Stench of beautifully sordid things
The life water for everything

I camp on the banks
Joy the life, the wild sort
Dips into it for
Life and who does not reject

Then I follow it down
Water to brindled estuary
And see a goddess swimming
In clear seas, naked and fearless.

I will love
I will love
I will love
The taste on my lips

I love — You knew, didn't you?

Life Splash

Daily desperation
Covetousness
Despair - need
Wear away at the
Network of life

Here a greying
There a dessication
Weakness
Ghosting
Hope fades away

Then comes a laugh
So filled with joy
That in a moment
The world is healed
Made new — alive

What about Women

It is such a conundrum
Many women preen when given
Attention but is that a betrayal
Of a recognition of women
Of — Women's rights
Of — Women's values?

I do not know, they
Preen for me they are worth it I
Hope that they see
That it
I am so confused how
To reconcile my desire

I care
I care for the half that is woman
Because I swear to
Have compassion for all beings
This I swear
I swear compassion for all beings
We are all worth it
We are all humans

We are all worth it
Some of us need the others
We are consumed by our
Need for the gender others
By our lack of
By our need for other

Our genes drive our need
And
Their desire for me
Our
Genes drive our need for
Their desire for me

Some Times A Neck

Sometimes a neck is
Not just a neck
It is poetry and joy
And grace and desire
It is need and perfection

Some times
A neck is everything
Everything
More than the universe
More than perfection

Can't Tell

I can't tell
Touch of life
Touch of death
It's all the same

Days of the Suffering Heart

Everything is fine so
Why so much pain?
What brings the anguish
That lives in my heart?

How I wish for just a few
Days of peace and joy
A few
    Days of love
    A few
        Days of passion
        A few
            Days of a sheltering heart

But those days, if ever they come,
Are not these days
These are the days
Of the suffering heart

You Look

You look so much like
Someone I truly love.
What is it that brings
Such confusion —
What – brings – such confusion?

My heart wants to love you
Like I love my friend, my heart
My truth, but you
Are not she. So clearly, look — our hearts are
Not reliable, You only look — like

Still, my heart moves
My heart wants
My heart loves
So, unwisely,
Yet still, my heart loves.