~~~ sinusoidally embraced ~~~

dreaming
formless
as foam touches wave
rolling, reaching, merging ~~~

connecting, feeling, giving way
to hungers ache, hips that sway
a guttural, panting, licking bite
a kissing, clawing, ravishing fight

we sigh, mad in gyration
our fluids mingle, in tessellation
eyes reflect that hunting look
the giver, the taker and the forsook
intercourse of sweat and moan
a yogic yoni and magic bone
together inhaled, a bated breath
we linger spent, in ego death

so we reap an acquiescence
a repast, over-flowed by senses
to sleep, perhaps to fondly dream
of each, our taste, and all we seem
to think no more of things we miss
to linger long, in this, deep kiss

dreaming
spinning
under the Moon
in waves of ocean, sound and light ~~~

Dada Taoist reads the I Ching

throwing the yarrow sticks, Chinese coins,
bones left after ceaseless wars --
Lao Tzu told us

destruction makes way for the new --
the old ones fingered hexagram'd solutions
with the meaning of motion sickness --

darkness births light
made of prophecies
read from tortoise shells and entrails --

war and DNA dances
the eternal turning of change where
high has fallen low and low is beholden

to everything coming and going --
ancient Chinese sages and generals
blew open the doors and shut the windows

to keep out the foreign invaders
with their great wall a line in the sand --
now the walls are shaken and the rivers gorged

drop

reflecting all the world,
risen to the sky, merged in a cloud,
dancing electric, rolling around with the sound of reverberating thunder,
whirled in wetted winds to lay upon the green leaf,
dripping on down,

d
r
i
p

d
o
w
n

to a brook meandered
into a rushing stream raging a river,

f
a
l
l
i
n
g,
crashing toward a roiling sea --

the sea, that ancient deep restless sea
... aching for the sky ...

jeff's foot or mis-Step dad

Carried by your wrath
you cared in the angry
bone-crunching perspectives
you pressed upon me,
leaving the taste of metal and salt
from the wound in my mouth.

Looks were either liked or disliked
by your wary animalisms
arrogantly frowned.

There for the breaking
you beat my wild cleverness
into a secret fragile dream.

You were never
consoling and laughed as
you won me over and over again.

You called me one day
aching for a connection,
your sad story about an infection
in the foot you kicked me with;
losing it to diabetes.

Somehow that mattered
in a cliche that rolled around inside my head:
'you've one foot in the grave.'

inWORDs flow, er and hop eh --

meaning is a kludge --
get a clue, doh!
where's your verbal toes?

not one but many
any where you dream
catching the flow, er

and hop, eh
like a frog or
butterfly winging

listening to the critiques
of croaks and songs
of Crickets and Katydids

when I am Truth I am Beauty
unless you lied
about me being ugly --