polyanna

sprinting the stairs of a rustic ruin-

quick around the crumbling stones-

ankles burning with the magnitude-

ascending on and streaming cheeks-

hands solid, I grip an agéd flagpole-

bearing words to beckon you back-

it is a simple phrase that all know-

alike to seeds, simple words grow-

I scream with delight to reach top-

my eyes scanning the horizon scar-

each breath tears for how you are-

distance breaks, builds, then dies-

but reconnects your shimmer eyes-

it's sticks, swift, like windy spears-

deep into my hidden, melting guts-

holding my arms back like cassius-

betraying my hunger for your yes-

I wave the flag to the sun and sky-

to warn the wind of my raging cry-

Tremble, clouds, I'd call you down-

the moment I saw you hiding her-

Nature crimes in the azure climbs-

whisking winks and simpler time-

I stamp and shout against my kind-

the ones that go, the ones outside-

banner raised against the sounds-

of a barefoot heel against ground-

I call again, my voice shreds calm-

my thunder, still, is a cannon song.

clamor dancer

for the love of god,

let's take this mountain.

let's take a breath and release a fire blazing cloud of whispers.

whispers of our future.

immediate. killing the past.

the world to be will fear our dreams.

like a lamb, fearing a wolf, or a lynx, or a goat with knivessss

we are creatures. animals. herds. we survive like animals.

we die like computers. we die like pictures.

we die like the swarthy fats legs of deadly promises.

FOR ONCE LET'S LIVE LIKE CLAMOR DANCERS!

let's rip off these powdered wigs

let's teach ourselves a new cave to paint.

LISTEN TO ME! I'M A CREATURE, I PROMISE YOU I WILL BITE!!!

we all will bite once we see how sweet the fruit shall be.

SHALL

WILL

we all will bite once we see how sweet the fruit shall be.

for the love of god,

let's take this mountain.

let's take a breath and release a fire blazing cloud of ancestry.

you and I. let's breed.

our thoughts combine and seed.

Our thoughts combine and proceed.

thought mothers.

thought fathers.

there's no stopping them.

rabbits.

kudzu.

the uneducated third world.

or is it DISD...

who knows?

BUT OUR THOUGHTS! IF THEY GREW LIKE THESE!!

but be careful. someone will strike you down. soon. for your radical freedom.

the american revolution will not be televised. or on facebook. or on tumblr. or tweeted between bullet rounds whizz past your liberated ears. the revolution will happen in your homes. community centers. churches. temples. mosques. afterschool programs. the revolution will occur in the resurfacing desire for a wholeness. a unity. people will discover their loneliness. and their loveliness. people will realize their need for you. your need for them. this is all just hypothetical, but when the dusty wigs are gone and we peer past the product to the oily roots of our human heads, we will see the skin that hides the skull that hides the brain that stores the love of our lost, broken hearts. Please meet me on the mountain. please don't kill yourself for your childhood.

"Forgiveness is the release of all hope for a better past" - Buddy Wakefield.

FOR ONCE LET'S LIVE LIKE CLAMOR DANCERS!

let's rip off these powdered wigs

let's teach ourselves to dance is to breath.

spin in a circle and get high on your gravity.