Chedda & POMES


especially pungent and ripe
the taste of her smiling heart
on billowing blazing screen
of my minds inner eye.
to be inside of every motion
to know
the struggling, burning desire
is all, because of love.
to remember
and find you here
before my ever expanding heart.
to listen to your whispers through my inhales and exhales
this is intimacy, this is your gift to me,
a dream come true.
she sails the seven seas and dreams the fire of light
into intrinsic awareness,
resisting urges to neglect the limitless channels of her abundant body I stand.
She smiles
and I capsize into her salty turbulence
i test, but misjudge the depths
gasping, frantically, frog kicking my way
to supossed safety  up and up I climb to pierce her liquid skin
and am instantly engulfed in the warmth of fathers beaming brilliant gaze.
she holds me
I float
I float and breathe
I float and breathe and listen
I listen deeply to the chorus of her underwater wisdom
churned up through the orififices of every living being that swims and moves and flows through her loving surging mass.
a blank canvas
two days to finish everything
two days to soak up boundless rights of passage
two days to entertain notions of the vastness of the interwoven
networks that most humans refer to as “things I have to do”,
scribbling TO DO lists of indifference, simply to guide the limitless
into smaller and smaller bits
which allow the tiniest spark,
but brilliant are the twinkles of each item checked.
a TO DO list to test the methods of my own mind.

1.digest food with care, paying close attention to the delicious intricacies and textures of her very essence
2. directly acknowledge and appreciate the ability to see the light AND the shadow
and to honor both, and to offer your life in service to this unfolding transaction
3. keep checking…and checking…and checking

and keep honoring the ability, the right to bear
arm loads of purple and pink pillows of such lushness
you puke from the over the top cuteness.

he sees a very large spider
he stops writing and grabs his empty water cup that sits next to his bed
he gently coaxes her into the vessel
and deposits her outside the back door.
I am for an art that makes your insides smile
I am for an art that changes its name to you and me, an art whose appetite
is so large we are all swallowed alive and instantly reborn as professional alien dune buggy drivers.

I am for an art who never has and never will post to my timeline,
but who I know loves me anyways.