A banjo is playing in the bodega.
A door proclaims its ding and dong
voltaic birds bounce to its tintinnabulum,
flickers of auricular featherings
wipe shelves of a million years of dust.
The banjo is at prayer and you are there
as you peal with its cadence and quiver.
The bodhisattva
they that dynamo the sonic tides,
the waves,
air waves, sounding and soundless,
who sparkle
in the high deep heavens
and in the low wallows
where ankles are the muddy roots
of wind chimes and cow bells.
Sounds unleashing
the knelling thunder of peace.
Alabaster hands poised in mid-air
signaling an elemental perfection.
The kinetics of gesture and stillness,
as doors open their choiring mouths,
as banjos mimic the sounds
of all practicing avatars,
and we hearing
only the ding yet missing the dong
unthinking un-ring Gods temple gong.
Categories:
voltaic, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The night sky is alive.
As light fires to my eye;
The flight of heaven’s ride,
Across this dark abyss;
Light sizzles up the night;
I sit and watch the sight,
Of a voltaic tide;
Afraid of the slightest kiss;
A touch from the electric mist,
Will scar my nocturnal bliss;
Amps in each streak of white;
Hold power to take life;
Yet, rarely does it strike;
Mostly just lights the night;
A glimpse of celestial might;
A charge full of wrong and right;
For some men take delight;
While most men flinch in fright;
Think on this if you like,
Just a form of God’s light.
Categories:
voltaic, fear, god, light, nature,
Form: Rhyme
With every thought and mood,
There beats a brain and heart,
With kirlian photography there can be viewed,
The aura around your corporeal part.
Your body is electric,
Each neuron is a spark,
Shocking that which is connected,
To each voltaic quark.
Electrical circuits create a force
We call electromagnetism,
Which surrounds the synaptic source,
Of two axons 'tween its schism.
Lightening strikes within our bones and burns in every tendon,
Igniting the lights within the ethereal breath from which we have transcended.
Feel the precious pulse of power and pressure pump along your spine,
To touch the tickle of alternating currents who're carried on waves of sine.
Together we form a flurry of neurons firing throughout the atmosphere,
Linked in a chain of humming hearts and minds whose echoes you'll learn to hear.
Categories:
voltaic, education, emotions, life,
Form: Rhyme
Your kiss is lightening that strikes my lips,
And when your embrace is mine,
A voltaic vitality surges from my hips,
Disembracing me, as I unravel like twine.
Categories:
voltaic, kiss, love,
Form: Rhyme
The suitable ramblings of a plate of acorn and carrots to a listening ear of a squirrel squire is very very good news for a bed of voltaic leaves.Vehemently described by a small stone to be akin to radio station chattering. Babbling brook then. Oh good. Oh how one must look in amazement at the many radishes who arrive in uniform with badges. Clanking a clicking. Clocking a clinger. Danger is in the harbours where resides a 8000 long lobster. Whose antics are unpleasant and displease the many ships of cakes floating upon the waves. Juniper is Jupiter. And juvenile crimes of a pile of mud is an archaically archived delivery. How quite pleased is a 67 metres of a sky. Bus building baking breathing breastplate boomerangs breadsticks bang. And in a Penang architecture is often quite outstanding. Far freezer freeing fakes formations. Was washing wasting waiting willing wildly wildlife. And look there is a tiny two inch caterpillar many legs many boots many miles many many moons. Ha hmm xx Stupefaction *** z .
Categories:
voltaic, america, animal, april, art,
Form: I do not know?
dirt twirls and dances between the rows
in slow curly q archs
with the same meandering intensity of a lazy summer afternoon as the sun beats down leaving
shimmering specks like a great photo voltaic pond
slightly bending visual acuity in the process
leaving behind a kind of dreamlike haze
just as easily forgotten as remembered
all this is the backdrop to the steady hum of the John Deer
moving earth with an unhurried confidence
one chunked plot of land at a time
no more no less
all the while the lone hawk looks on from its power line throne
on the corner crisp apples are sold
dipped in caramel and sold on a stick
to the bouncing children energetic from the long car ride
all is well in the central valley
Categories:
voltaic, community, home, tribute,
Form: Free verse