eleven

Doors Open At Eleven 

5-27-20

As to learn nothing 

In spices dissected from beauty of ceiling tiles 

O, what this I do with the hawk soaring 

Yet that I'm centered as friend in the class  pearly colored 

Man, my pale face to liken the stone I might sleep 

For another chance praying to do pretend 

Jesus please wake me and have me to get back into the gospel  groove 

As such is a benefit  our day for it today

absolute grunge plucking inside in the doorway 

Around another nullified accomplishment in shrill gravity coming up 

Seeking himself and sibilating 

Nothing to be today 

Spew this.....

Next To The Spruce

5-27-20

Above me spilling and below the care old things as freedom 

Fracking turning the mad mystic memories 

As if yet wee sensible 

Jesus, please wake me to the occasion 

In the present place

O, who are you trinketed to and thou under the wall 

And ring most to the spruce 

O, forlorn the horn morn the day I was born 

sun the bend blind and mute 

No luck in looking for lichens of leisure 

In you as you are sensible for our hypnotic must pleasure 

Permanent tree 

Just you and me.....