horses in the rain

by Snow Leopard

Posted to Action Poetry on 2004-02-17 11:38:00


(Love Perm for Emily) (wherever I may find her) (Ill fuck her in the ass w/ marchinkovski making notes)


Birds pairing;
Adorned with lace, flowers,
feathers- a sign of my affection
for you

14.2.03

I.
(Vision)
Sleek sleet slovenly angel Ophelia
Wincing curls into the mirrors faint aromatic fuzz
Slip slit lavender sheets flapping sumptuous starlight

Two single words, unuttered, and
If you close the door the night could last forever
Feeding pheminine felines Florence’s spring grapevines

The pale smoothness of her beauty
Doth embitter my heart so!
A blue slice silently embossed in my gorge

Abandoned veils sift down evenings
fading curtain and her eyes are wide and
bright and full of moonbeams and distant secrets

queen of an evil sex
storm-riots swinging unearthly
dancers radiant with sad paternal beauty

sinking me mindless into minds
myriads crimson heaven flashing on her hips
elegant enough to drive men to war,
or to write poems like this one.


II.
(Awe)
I want to kiss her lips as a small child would.

Slippymeek.
The moon in her belly.
Thunderstorms in her fingers.
Deserts in her toenails.

Lambs nuzzle in her sand swept legs
Weary with loves rose-pink crest-
Ivory medallions painted on her ocean skin.


III.
(Confusion)
A.
Horns on a hare
Hairs on a pear
(Ascornsonacornsa)

[to the best of our knowledge
the premises are false
the argument is invalid
the argument is valid.

Time Space Location
Laws of physics

Onemindprivatelanguage

The body of Christ

Extenionless colour

Dark side of binary pair, physical woman (moonbelly)

One substance? One minds? L’mare?!

Start, scratch, clunk

All is an arbitrary conception of mind

Lonely within the fall

They try and ‘dress me’ but I just want naked alone, why else?

The sound of the universe
Represented pure in music, sex, dance, poetry, philosophy, bell, flowers and shit
The bare fact of living represented in Art

Bad art is religion

No beg(in)ing hands but the word of God


The city hated me
And now I hate the city too]

B.
Love is not the weight of the world,
Gravitational mind cosmos governs all nothing except in mind because it cannot dwell in that in which it does not dwell

All is true, nothing real

No mind cannot conceive of the real essence because it’s unknown in appearances which we cannot see.

The city streets swell the corridors of heaven- jet stream supersubliminal milky Way

Reason is thinking of itself, in itself, in all modes and vessels because is can always never achieve what it already cannot own.

This may all sound like mental masturbation language games but I assure you
It’s rooted in Nature which is why one can reasonably decide to let that glow-worm amelie parade past in the street (because my bus was due!!)
Reasonably I ignored the burning in my lap for the good faeries swishing by
Frown full belly sigh such is decay- truly terrifying (to all in some form or other)
It’s all been said before- study, be mindful, disciplined, meditate etc etc and don’t worry about the whole thing because none of it (real/ly) matters (is real) matter etc etc S’all true- all there (not) to seen (in heaven on earth forever now)


C.
Spontaneous wor(l)dly mind revised heave(n)ly body
Pussywillowinechairmoonlight, take me high up in balloon an slip me the answer.
Jesus had a cunt. Buddha knew about cunt sucking.
And when Buddha pointed to a flower, he had a river in his heart.
That’s why Kerouac throws cocks and flowers at the reader-
‘The universe is the only way a dream could take place.’
‘The void is limited by any kind of conceiving.’
Kerouac, Harpo Marx, WC Fields and Bela Lugosi hitchhiking together in China!


‘Dreams must be recorded as they come, spontaneously’

Deciduous Merrimac surplus con artist
Crackpot moansqueek helluva basketa pittykats
don’t slip upon the candy gal! Asexuality hot bed of virus hepatitis
simplistic metric kiss cannibalist antiseptic concourse didils sweet schapiro mountains Autochtonic spirit don’t fight it!
Peotyl grooking in the desert to eat our hearts alive The coming downedness-
I laugh out loud to think of Burroughs
And then he silences me into terror pure.


How the Lord feels in the time of plague or famine!
If Jesus returned to the Earth we would crucify him again.
And let he who has not sinned through ignorance cast the first lot.
(The crowd full of cured lepers’ wives)

Live between divine pardon and your own torment.
Those endless words- All is vanity! All is futility, under the sun, like chasing the wind.
As a child I could see myself as an old man cursing myself, the world, time…
‘All my life I’ve been blind!’

You wouldn’t believe unless you saw; but
Her hair is like snow falling in a church.

D.
(Later)
love is a mutation the black cry of the sea sends bells crashing like sirens over the lands hard plains unchanged for centuries patterns of decay within the great decay within the great decay cities and cures for cancer would not be necessary Man understands living the closer he comes to death how he lives then, now, is what becomes important. Those of you have heard blood drip from the guillotine life the silent scream of a wolf at night, those of you who have lost your homes by the hands of oppression, those of you have heard horses weeping in the rain will not understand these words of a young poet stranded in eternity, in fact, not beside these; ‘As I liveth, said the Lord, ye shall no more have occasion to recount this teaching in Israel.’


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