Friday, September 24, 2010


Buzzing bees call me to sleep
gently drinking effervescent nectar
spreading propagating pollen
sending my wayward tale,
casting forward my fate

I hear the buzz
Responsibility is no part of privilege
Privilege is self-evidence of desert
Prancing private parts into the face
of horror, of terror, of despair.
Conquest by dictate creating
some bizarre maze of disfigured mirrors 
Unaware of consequence, of karmic grace,
of simple summing:  A resolving into A
for Arrogance, for Anger, for Allegory,
fallen Angels dance in pinhead glee
Dancing out past the veils, will to see
that slim glimmer of freedom
The buzz, that subtle song,
echoing and shifting the drumbeat
New Queens rise, take flight through
brilliant skies, awakened
from potent dreaming to excitement,
seedlings bursting into life

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