Whom The Oak Trees Love

I go by the oaks to love you

to walk amongst the woodland grass

under moonlight or breaking sun

with effervescence
in forms of light

my face is insignificance
under shade

so I feel like someone passing

between two places in the hills
or
a million life times in the stars

this is love that moves my human ankles
over dusty rocks of rust and red

this is the having of life

of rust and red from earlier comets
who bore gravitations and ellipses

as every journey or every moment
is an elliptical one

time is the now and the everlasting

that is what the oak trees tell me
when they tune my neurons among them

they share the tones of an unending song

the tones of transmigration

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Little Baby Neal

I had a dream.
It was [blank] and I.
We were walking on what seemed
a neverending 6-inch deep lake.
At parts
we suspected the water was really deep.
It was night and the darkness seemed
neverending too.
Just went on and on.
It was really muddy in areas.
We still had our shoes on.
They were soggy and waterlogged.
It felt as if dawn might start turning at
any moment, out on the periphery and
perimeter, though it still remained
blankly dark where we stood.
Maybe it felt like that cuz we had kept
walking and walking into the lake
and due to how much time had passed
it seemed like dawn must come soon.
[blank]’s wife and another woman,
definitely someone I knew but can’t recall
now, were walking out into the lake too,
off in the distance to our left.
It was as if [blank] and I had set off ahead
to see if we could find a path off or through
the lake.
The women were carrying a really beautiful
blond haired toddler girl named Neal.
When they finally got close
and we were chatting about what to do
the little girl’s blond hair seemed as vibrant
as fresh flowers there in the darkness.
It was calming to have the little girl around
and I started carrying her in my arm like a dad
holds his own girl.
I kept telling her, “You’re adorable Baby Neal.”
She would giggle and ask,
“Why you say this?”, and all I’d say was,
“Just remember as you grow up, remember
what an adorable little girl you used to be.”
Occasionally, I would look out on the lake
and honestly feel a deep fear and uncertainty,
but something about all of us being together
and the little girl being there made me
hold myself together, to not show fear,
to remain calm and move forward into the lake.
I wondered why the women had been off
on their own, carrying Baby Neal earlier.
It was like we had left them on their own
to look after the child, as men often do.
I thought this dream was a lot about life.
As we move through it
we are uncertain at points, but we have
the reference of those around us to continue
to live.

Paradigmatic Feelings

From these oak trees I have loved.
You are not in a land of oak trees.
You are not in a land of trees.
Cement, metal, bricks and barriers
have become your companions.
So I turn to the oak trees
and at night, under stars
they shepherd the feelings of the
Universe
to send to your heart
enveloped by
radio waves and cellular signals
and I lie down on the prairie of Texas
to love you,
to make a new kind of paradigm
with acorns, ants and pebbles,
to dream of an infinite kingdom of
children and the ageless somewhere
amongst the galaxies and galaxies.

The stars are the vows of our marriage,

what is mortal and immortal between us.

Whence Touched By A Consciousness Corrector

cruising down a highway in L.A.
with an authority of consciousness wrong

she has her badge
it’s in her genetics

i lived in a relationship for 10 years
with an authority of consciousness wrong
you know, the policers and correctors
> it later turned out to be billions of years in fact

we were holding hands with the radiation from
our solar star beaming down on our skin
pouring down, rushing the permeable thresholds

cars and big buildings passed outside the window

that radiation is still beaming within us
and as previously discussed always has been

the trillion level beings or the infinite

some police consciousness wrong
some promote consciousness right
and some are the consciousness eternal
like the shades of orange in the Arizona desert

i prefer them all at once

At Blank House In Suburbs

Where are we in this empty room

I reach out to you

We’re not being
the ones in the track houses

We’re not being there

Nothing is being there
where
the beige bricks and the beige walls
could not
have held our marriage together

Where is this heavenly building
for your blue eyes

A place worthy of gold and infinite

The blood within my human
human heart

The tiered gardens and the colonnades
of much better civic planning

The Horse That Runs

I am horse

You do not love me

I will run and run

under night sky or blazing sun

across the Umbrian plains

or the chalk fields of Texas

and when I tire

I will lay down to rest

beneath a rusted oak tree

with ants crawling at my legs

my salivation to the grass
and lonely wind

I rest and rise to continue
the unending trek towards you

Passing The Crumbs Of Forgiveness

Forgiveness-Is-Tough

You make me feel like
a scattered fast food meal
from Wendy’s thrown across
a parking lot

Left sparse, picked apart and
sad by an economy car
early on a veiled winter day
at a time
when who would eat that
shit

I know you can forget
but will you forgive?

Who is the leaver of this thing here

the place
in my heart?

It is much more difficult to forgive
the people we leave

and have already let go of

Can you forgive a person you can no
longer hold?

Could
we ever hold Jesus to begin with?

Til Death Or The Soccer Stars Come To Town

When I’m old
and confined to a wheelchair
from diabetes
will you take me on the train
to the soccer game
when
the European superstars
come to town?

Remind me of my youth
when I had good health
and danced across the field

when
my
feet
pivoted
upon the grass

Will you remind me when I had youth
and love me in
my loss of health?

Will you love me with my
failing legs?

Or will you humbly take the food
off my tray
with a tired and weary heart?