A Time Then for Singing!

 Here there, tally there; oh on this day of sunshine rose o’ dreaming!

I woke with a thought, then ran quick to jot, this memory all now of a hope-es!

 

For today people are kind I saw the seashore run wild; leapt fast beside to

catch all the wet lighting!  I heard a loud smack & fell on my back, on

 

green grass best oh to roll in!  I wasn’t sure what to wear, or best then to say, all I

know is that spring soon in our land is coming!  For when

 

the sun today rode high, that there would be quick a time, for cheer-den

-merriment-a-frolicking! Yet neighbors agree when they giggle w/ me

 

soon all will be fields of posies & wandering along riversides (there is)?

Such shifts of the poles & flights of colorful birds back to north, I think

 

the gentle rain with snowshade may fall then this morn, yet tomorrow is

promises (great things yet to see & then to smell & tell)!  I witnessed a

 

tailor outside making poof-up jackets so wide; nothing can keep him from

happily a stitching!  For who needs the dew when I’m a

 

writing to you, of castles rising out of near seashores a sparkling? Candles O yes it’s

a day when we get now to chant a “happy somethingsomething” then sent

 

celebrations so wide & fair & true just for..just for..?!  Once more all can dance amongst all

the brighter days, with starshine ‘nuff for several more, I saw I cast

 

grins at doubt, snap fingers at clouds, I hear soft melodies from

all the near windows wandered beside (that of new artists a dreaming?!)  I heard

 

there are tales yet to be told, kitties scratching at posts; a streetside that soon 

might need sweeping!??    

 

So for this Birthday of yours, I’ve done my best not to bore, & hope im

-agination beside bright cheer now runs a-wild! 

 

But adieu for a while, I send this with a smile and all

the best wishes oh just then for you! 

 

Cheers n toodles, -Mark

Apollo, that Hawaiian Rise. -M.Weisgerber.

Dispel, make way!  The rays and waves and aspirations soon to rise,
A cauldron is out there bubbling, brimming
Clouds rising high, matching the crags & swoops coming up,
Rising all around.  Signatures, apt fingers -
Dissolving as soon as grace takes hold.

Hasn't even unveiled its full might yet - the color!!
Oh such gorgeous grotesque drippings, cascading down,
Each stroke dancing brighter, the firelight (torturous, almost!)  The joy..
Paintbrushes ready to capture, filaments 
ready to render. 

Yet who am I, alone on this easy trip?
Merry head felt high, guts placed out in a long line, and

Apollo, in His triumph arises,
pushes himself laughingly up, to the left,
then other side pushing such bars, such impulses aside.
Splitting the day apart with insistence.  I, merely to stoop
and cower, and render, and... and... and...

There is a crown now - pushing, giving birth to the brightness
the light, the hope now rising in a heart.
Even the waves, the edges of my sight they turned.

The mists above, so much swirling, ever circling.

(It takes my breath away..)

The Walk (11/13/2020). -M.Weisgerber

 Love its time: take me, tame me, brand me, all - down to the trail, out to where
the thin lines cut quick & meander past tall roots - rusty monoliths grow

there for another time, oh this other trial; feet & penile don't fail me now!
For we followed the white dog out onto the same pathway you've rumbled
on a hundred thousand times; yes, THE tall brambles that power on, hard 

'lectric pumps that thrum through the same veins as yours or mine, given us purpose
down past the green door...out to where the old loony bin stands tall (the
hard brick of fine fine arches, where debutantes can now wander free) - my oh
my how the mind flutters naturally to hard stones n sterner hearts!  It'

You Remain as Living Poetry (2/12/2020). -M.Weisgerber

 

That’s what they wrote, tis what then they implored me thus to seek

(you cant see such writings in the dark, cant feel blood on flat wood...)

Hearts.

 

For I met a girl there on the sand lounging lazy as the day was long, book

held closely loose, hips matching lips in a pursed way as her shades slid

thus made sense when closer I leaned to inspect, apologized for a sound.

 

Stood back when realizing that hands & feet, butt 2 cheek littered heartily

with symbols drawn, lines; a thousand runes by which to loftily intrigue,

subdued the more dapper words I had then twirling round, wounds not

 

spoke too loud.

 

I fell for the little things before I saw the rhythms, bile rising softly, me to

grin out through the puke poke sneak sack lie in which I’d claim it. 

She smiled at whence she claimed me, rose then said she loved me, we

 

had nerve to call me schizophrenic, yet heartily I awoke to this new fear

that of a girl and a world, and every lie I’d ever tell carved writ wrought

on her at large, on this a frame then now to bend?  (Enter deep within?)

 

For a thief recognizes another on wide streets, & I stood curious, curious. 

Should have known better though as writers, artists, all, they circle round,

vultures all w/ rock band tunes, bandanas held so close; heads sway low.

 

Crisscrossed words upon her open arms, her lovely sun set shadows about

your shoulders; a clavicle full of posies, her side stitched hitch hand to

wave or guts to punch at that the first kiss she shared with me a car broke.

 

A warning to the near sky, “BEWARE”, soft then hard at hand, a land,

your very torso, scrawled all I was lucky just to hold but bold I stood

lightning rises in the jar, cracks all containments, such lids fly sideways.

 

This true delight I marvel(ed?) in holding, its wiggling worms - a frame

that I didn’t see of a name, didn’t share the shame till far too late, didn’t

dwell on the same legs loved, and that alone I should have said mattered.

 

It did not.  I

did not either, though I contemplate on ochre nights, sights made so

fanciful freely my mind shatters on new shores, your open pores beckon. 

 

For one cannot see worry rising in the dark, we cannot meet 50’s fantasy

fascinations without laughing at the fascist ways you circle round, towns

give before your soft toes, the hard fist, yet you did not seek to navigate.

 

 

Only observe fast in a quick song, another mark ready for shoulder side

a blade to draw a new beat, a harmony wretched in skin pulled thin to bite

hard, pull fast in large rooms, the sand calls again I’m falling…

 

May it come again, may the rest of the world see your worth as I, a

Meaning on the brow, a lifting of the now before the snow.

For I…I…

 

I fell for that pit before I ever knew feel flavor traced soft hands on loose

skin above ink that called them yet came to claim it; you (she) maimed

herself for a name, came fast upon hard sheets, a whistled machination –

 

a boob chandelier soon to rise?  

 

Snake in the armpit held, porcupine on the backside, meld

it’s a call for a new state, a new Mexico rising on a hard plain.

I’ll love her leaving there, see her dancing out on the hard pan, I’ll

 

Love there in between, here and take care and everywhere else the same.

 

It is funny, how the bodies we lie in, only rented, hot quixotic electrical

desires as the impulses that slide side by side, meld not but lie, twist side

to other side there in the dark.  Hold not me or you, but oft each other,

 

Upwards, outward – no complaints when bodies sprain the others worth.

Then on to next, into

another.

 

Electrons dancing silly, the thick hair or skin cells flake off of your &

your little hands, being vessels by which to hold, to love.

Babe give me a blotter, and I will show you how…how…

 

We draw little lies upon our backsides, dog-o-the-one-tail not effective as

its cats familiar does not worry about the colors, no blacks then blues,

only bruises rise, same as you gave to I, I…gods…

 

God, you cant see such writings in the dark...

You can never see such madness in the part…

 

(Cant see sparks before they fly)

Cannot call me before I die. 

 

Cannot tell me that I lie, I

love you, and that alone should

matter. 

Listening to the Missoula Floods; a Calling (8/20/2020). -M.Weisgerber

 Righteous hard, flowing fast: hatred grown now then to last (this hard pain)

Crabby (11/20/2019). -M.Weisgerber

 The heat, the sun; hot to tarry ho!  Oh how the heart shivers for a world &
a girl as we two loved by the simple sea, now babe your frame rises up as 

a secret treasure known only between the we & us that's yet to be there is

a mallet on the table, a bib upon the chest - a loafing of the rest which is

commiserate w/ such highs; earrings?  There is a dew drop on your thigh,

a shaker maker of Bay of Olde beside each hand and nostril left to kiss, I

lift a pinky to remove a teardrop from a cheekside stained rouge delicate, 

seeking to set our passions dueling I, desire something you can take along

with your passing a gift to match your care, I need it (I want I want I want)!!

So she grumbles in hard dark, does not understand why or how I wander

when Fells moon lights a shining of the way, heading for the north part of 

the bay & her name & all our legs they feel so similar, wrapped so close.

Yet all I can think of is the man that came before, yea all I can do is

recall which it was is going yet to be; which street will lead you & me to 

we home now.  How many yellowed woods can lead out to azure sea?

I want to stretch out on these same sands that the brachyura roam, I want to

be eaten alive as their mandibles clatter closed (fine whiskers under chin)

use ever vertebrate bone to hold you, to know your moans, deep under

the same murky stars shining for thee; us.

I was here last year on the same loam as the same worries that fluttered near

I tiptoed carefully cuz sometimes shards of glass are buried there shallow

yet growing well now, feeling stronger with you & the days & the sights.

If you pry one tendril off my soul sure it's yours to keep, yet the hole fills

up so fast with filaments and fibers, gamely workmen reconnecting joints 

as the appendages gain traction along with a color blue: all else whispers!

Yet this same token exists to catch dust & souls, memories that move fast, 

quicker than her hand as she reached forth by which to accept (to smack),

oh how I (HATED) loved that simple starshine glitter in her eyes, dragged

her off the beach to dance out in the street between chickens fleeing bikes

her up to the edge of a soft bed where cliffside nears, a rush of hard waves

gobbling up shore & souls & worried memories fading fast, then CRASH!

So yea I have something small, the least of which to show I can care & if

you'll wear them once I'll know your mine, once is more than enough if 

when you come back to claim me (shame me, maim me both I swear)

I swear (sear?) I'll give you something else you simply cant lend back to me.

Never Thought I’d be Here, this Sadness, Madness Held (11/20/2020). -M.Weisgerber

What a day is this that I wake so cold & also so very much alone, I

a pitiful wreck another of a hundred million more designed for bait, kept

alive by malicious hands to shovel hate & superstitions your way, toiling

so hard as to make a heart & a brain forget; they call me wretched.

Swearing that you would pray, pay for all the love we didn’t have to have
Taking the time away from me, from us, everything in between.
Rotting inside a vision held, telling, told all.  (Insanity?)
Nueva is just a name - my game is love. 
 
Not. be care.  free there.  Free Love.
 
Make us
Free.
 
Falling apart, found somewhere in the black between the quasars, I trip, I 
spoil inside the sun you insist on casting, the war worth waging strung up 
on genitals preaching, high school high score being the all time high
all the time yes yet then still we are flailing there, high beyond goalposts.
 
There was a table too, white clothier there was on a wall behind, fast red
bleeding deep, pulling a weeping child & lover out through the void there 
that is everything that we doth now make & define & cast our lines, our 
lives, our lots beside the barnyard terrycloth pulling fast.  Shed there.
 
My mind seethes out there beside the partition where you criticized my 
tastes, my loving heart to collapse on wooden steps, making the turn 
where the dog carves witness marks for all the times we wouldn’t hug, 
wouldn’t yell out at the gloom that consumes your past holds fast to ware.
 
You wouldn’t pray, fucktard, when I asked, claimed Christian when your 
sex fast falling, a debauchery slogging fast (did they know we sexed upon 
the second time?) same as when you’re coming cast, no second cuming 
before the diodes shift, before the wand doth find that crotch I paid for. 
 
It.  Stings.  More than your nails upon a chest did rake, pull it up from the 
sands where I lay, passed the gold I poured a bottle full at a time into doth 
lies, does try upon the same swallowed pile as wont fit inside a mouth so 
greedy as not to let the words fly free – forgiveness isn’t in your nature.
 
Bastard.
 
So pack it into the ground, where I will say any words that will cut or 
score or make your mind forget not that hatred can have a flavor here.
 
Fed Freely.