Cornish poems

02-20-10
Togetherness flows
like a great womb of being,
collecting us through sublime love
the unconscious forces
of wishing-the-best-for-the-souls-which-are-close-to-our-lives.
Relax into it,
the golden thread through all words,
and open up your heart.


02-18-10
Coming into Cornwall
from Plymouth in the early morn
the darkness sleeping on the heath banks of effernesce,
bathing my soul in peace of evermore-
                                            evermore
                                                      dream
                                                      dream
                                            melody of
                                                         dream
like an ancient riddle,
far obscured in clouds
opening in
                Apoc-Apoc
elipses of floating
Epiclipsed castled and sandy island-scattered beaches
After al the beach-chair striped hills of wonder-
                                                              dreaming.

Like a womb, is this dream--
embracing love ride
mists at midnight
all dragon breath and golden coasted shores
all castles on the gaurd
great freedom nodes of thy-kingdom-come
in the mists of Arthur's last blood
and St. Dennis upone the glade,
                                    crow-eye
                                    crow-eye
storm crow law of evermore. 



02-17-10
Dear Dave,
we're on high adventure,
I can feel it in my bones,
through new muse and new admixture
an ancient alchem feeling that I feel.
Like old wine in new skins,
perhaps we all shall burst,
but new wine is the quickest drunken,
so like new wine we'll be drunken first.
High adventures
cross land and heath,
and sea,
and waves,
and hope,
and muse,
and love:
just to be sure,
yes just to be sure,
we've always been here before,
for sure,
always already again,
a new forevermore.  


02-14-10 (in London)
Gone to sleep is that critical part of them
who practice one-rule-for-all.
Gone to sleep
like a sleeping bomb,
is that part of them which would function
if they did not force themselves to adhere
to one-rule-for-all.

Like a bomb
awaiting the alarm clock.