a scene from my ideal work environment:

it’s 3.33 am, the track that’s on is frogs and whispers of the forest, beeswax candle from the steppes of eastern europe lends light, its warmth woven with ocean mist by the wind i breathe in and out with a peaceful sigh as smooth chocolate melts into my still tongue

the words spill out thru my fingers typing away into a silver-thin lightbox that a spider just ran across saying hi to me a creature wearing wool so i’m cozy warm and i think i’m having fun writing and some of it is even classified as the thing i do for $ —  ah! here it is — give me more of this and i think i’ve found home…


basked in mercury vapour they

listen share intently
power words
future and big picture
knowledge of people herds

icebreakers on par with
expertise projections
they know work is human
all about connections

sign onto a vision
that’s bigger than themselves
learned have roles in stages
they’re structures windows shelves

humble hidden fuel they
think action strengthen sort
the public’s crucial veins
report plan serve support

i’m saying this with love
call them pencil pushers
sexy same as models
actors entrepreneurs

paper is required
to keep slime low to nil
pushing to perfect change
they keep can bc chill

In a world I used to roam...I visited a keen group of people who serve us in boxes big and small (I even met one who works in a storage room...no windows full of paper...until July. That's July of 2012. He likes his job. And he's good at it. Oh bureaucrats, I love you.

a soul kissed manqué to you i blow

how peculiar this once heavily woven love tessellation
magic sleeping blanket carpet
smothered waves of my brain to static
i turned upside down acutely confusing
inside knowledge apples fell on our heads
smacked into consciousness over and cycled
puzzle needed solving now now now why why why

minds transcribed key melodies
mistook for soul frequencies

now just…there…translucent walls in icicle-land mystery
crystallized in what must have been another plane
layered by some cosmic blip in frequency
frozen into what was now a fairy tale
sadness transcribed in another time

she is loved

ninja (a character stuck in a sticky story

layered like the gooey raspberry centre of an epic chocolate cake that doesn’t really exist tho it might

in the middle of make-believe dreamy reality that you think is a dream unless you flip the coin and it’s reality

and deep dark lusciousness is one of the richest places to be)

needs love. tho she has it. she’s hiding. why…

her spirit’s like a pretty watercolour poignantly painted

then shred in a beyond garden variety whirlwind

(which you might have a sense of if you’ve ever fallen into a rabbithole…)

sediments deposited at long last in calm waters

scattered pieces on the floor grounds pavement trails beach

(pretty much only one degree away from you most of the time

sometimes a fraction and sometimes you are right there in front of her)

many pieces gone lost disintegrated into another form

a few float down like autumn leaves then kicked thru a sunny stroll

some saved she’s oil plastered on the walls of a haven gently falling apart

magical people walk brush dance alongside her


as with pretty rocks or seashells on the shore they might pause

collect a coloured paint stroke examine remark laugh text smile

knowingly or not they deposit currency into her pocket

(the one that holds magic)

to them she bows

thank – you.

ninja manuel entry #1

sometimes when i write ‘you’

three concentric circles eclipse. ex:

[deep forest
white crane]


{a dance
raw chef
blue mark}

and sometimes a combo or mixture of the above
tho mostly it’s how i’m moved now don’t ask why
enter mr why why why rip.

that one was nice:

(sweet little boy
a dreamy king
ceramic bear).

sometimes on full moons thrice full eclipses occur.

on perigee needs super/ soft/ hug/

freed rebel princess in training

We met her at the harem
twenty dollar rescue sum
cradled mirror unabashed
hidden stories fabrics cached.

Affixed to king charm s/he was
unyielding soul pierced thru cuz
con bees honey candle wand
their time space eyes went beyond.

This she told me feelings pure
bound power held no allure
(y)earned steppe saviour on a horse
that dream myth ideals endorse.

Spirit gusts they journeyed both
rasp-layered oaths upon oath
her own dreams enmeshed unwhirled
spun our own old whorl real world.

Love attached so could not fly
found the king who showed the sky
round her puzzle knotted tie
snap broke free and s/he was i.

Pls reveal dream machine
divine goddess need more queen
new moon glasses fly a kite
contact dance yes you white knight.

This is my photograph

alone with me
by a hopeful lake of the new country
memories parallel to our myths and loves
in the summer sun
sitting on a root chakra of a tree
requested flowers
bare little feet kissing the grass
presented to your hands and smile
you were calm and having fun
there were no approvals
one by one you laced
a wreathe extra long afternoon
garland hugged my neck, tickled my toes
socks on when clouds and darkness
heightened hovered
waiting to pounce after dinner calm
when lightening flashed
i saw you and new fruit for us both
shared with us earlier by a mother doing what she does
water tides strong as waves crashed down
thunder shook the reddish thin walls
you weren’t scared so nor was i
the moon aligned
our dreams harmonized.