fri kuhai ::

grells bey axwingly

cemaudactial bingclimb

epillumticate

p.s. lingtang

.- -. -.. / - .... .. ... / .. ... / -- -.-- / .--. .- / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / -.. .- -.-- / ..--- ---.. -..-. ----- .---- -..-. .---- .....

.. ... / - .... .. ... /
-.-- . - / .- -. --- - .... . .-. / - . ... - /
--- ..-. / .. -- -... .- .-.. .- -. -.-. . /
.-- .. - .... ... - .- -. -.. .. -. --. /
--- ..-. / .-- .... .- - / - .... . -. /
.- ..-. ..-. . -.-. - .. --- -. /

-.. .- -- -. / - . ... - ...

sounds good :: hear it here

mon haiku ::

dreamt of scaling rocks.

coursing into the surface.

microwave kisses.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microwave

sat haiku_2 ::

seven a.m., Prince

awaken this day, splendor.

two Cardinals sing.

sat haiku ::

fuchsia sunrising,
silent winter morning stirs.
6:40 coffee.

St. Paul and The Broken Bones: "Call Me" - David Letterman

}}}{{{ OH YES }}}{{{ David Letterman's final request, "I want you to beat this to death. I want this to be like the first time..." }}}{{{ St. Paul and The Broken Bones }}}{{{ let me hear you sweetheart }}}{{{

}}{{ Woodcut }}{{ Bryan Nash Gill }}{{

}}{{ Woodcut }}{{ Bryan Nash Gill }}{{
"It's all out here, you just gotta be in it and you gotta participate..."

more ~ http://www.bryannashgill.com

and here's my P/A for the day :: 080115 (eb)

Deepest, darkest blue
immersion,
almost black.
Eyes shut black
where
under threat
there's found
necessary equilibrium,
necessary sustenance.
Feeling about
with hands outstretched,
guessing at textures
encountered,
surfaces under hand.

Bound by redundancy,
a cyclical pattern,
perpetual,
eventual...
the snake eating its tail,
the eagle and the weasel,
redundant systems
upon redundant systems.

From which all
spews forth
is the Spring,
drawing from the
deepest ground waters
only to circle 'round
again
and again
and
again.

And here it is
I sway
heart in hand,
teetering
over heart and hands,
singing
over a body laid down.

And there,
you see it?
There's that edge again.

yet another act of remembrance :: 070115

I see a gentle blue
barely clearing
through layers and layers
of altocumulus greys.
And the gusty wind
she stirs
a sharp chill
to the bone.

Oh, these bones
and all retained
there,
where
minerals they form
dazed
by remembrance
and as remembrance
can be,
saturating and fleeting
in the very same
instance.

Like the sunset
now displaying
its brilliance
as his light
descends
and cloud forms
shift...
cirrocumulus...
stratocumulus...
a golden brilliance
fraying
the grey clouds' edges,
splendid
temporal
colour transitions,
orange to fuchsia,
then purple.

And that was then,
yet another act of
remembrance.

say new day 010115 (eb)

because

your voice

it curls

so perfectly

into my cochlea

through to my

core.

and here's my P/A for the day :: 040115 (eb)

"oh, yes.
a little lust."

oh, yes.

and what of that

you wish to say

and/or do not

wish.

to say aloud?

engage interplay

and I'll write

another poem

one day.