i am the resurrection
mind playing tricks on me
i almost removed myself from your picture
you painted me darling lamb
i painted me "invisible."
i painted me "chalkline."
painted me "wasted."
all the madmen inside me are always dreaming
but there's a short circuit happening.
working on getting the wiring fixed.
sweetest lamb of mine, i ask you,
"please stand by."
here in my sex-dojo
i am practicing the workout, solo,
putting every thing and movement in its proper place,
its context,
memorizing the body and the frame,
how one might do this with a partner so as not to wound
onself, or another--
my practice, this might take me a lifetime.
you might be a walking diagram,
the breath and the shape of all dreams to be realized,
all my self-defense, libido aikido routines,
you might be the science of magic.
all the steps that lead me
to the things that whirr and sparkle as jewels,
nestled in our brief, fleeting, glittering
interactions.
and our silences.
the ways we move together in shapes and space
might lead me to that body mind and spirit health one only finds
through all arts, martial.
i know you are an avalanche. a glossary.
i know enough to take my shoes off and to bow, soft, in the direction
of your visage when i enter your dojo
i know enough to know that
i don't know what else to do, right now,
in this moment,
except to stay calm.
to remain in this open stance.
to remain willing to linger--
to dance...
4 20 03
--
happy easter and 4/20,
-Be.
mind playing tricks on me
i almost removed myself from your picture
you painted me darling lamb
i painted me "invisible."
i painted me "chalkline."
painted me "wasted."
all the madmen inside me are always dreaming
but there's a short circuit happening.
working on getting the wiring fixed.
sweetest lamb of mine, i ask you,
"please stand by."
here in my sex-dojo
i am practicing the workout, solo,
putting every thing and movement in its proper place,
its context,
memorizing the body and the frame,
how one might do this with a partner so as not to wound
onself, or another--
my practice, this might take me a lifetime.
you might be a walking diagram,
the breath and the shape of all dreams to be realized,
all my self-defense, libido aikido routines,
you might be the science of magic.
all the steps that lead me
to the things that whirr and sparkle as jewels,
nestled in our brief, fleeting, glittering
interactions.
and our silences.
the ways we move together in shapes and space
might lead me to that body mind and spirit health one only finds
through all arts, martial.
i know you are an avalanche. a glossary.
i know enough to take my shoes off and to bow, soft, in the direction
of your visage when i enter your dojo
i know enough to know that
i don't know what else to do, right now,
in this moment,
except to stay calm.
to remain in this open stance.
to remain willing to linger--
to dance...
4 20 03
--
happy easter and 4/20,
-Be.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
[Edited on Apr 22, 2003]
Then thus instructs his child: My boy, take care
To wing your course along the middle air;
If low, the surges wet your flagging plumes;
If high, the sun the melting wax consumes:
Steer between both: nor to the northern skies,
Nor south Orion turn your giddy eyes;
But follow me: let me before you lay
Rules for the flight, and mark the pathless way.