Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

new eyes
born

free to see

i hope to catcha ride
on a stork strong wing
to ride the winds of chance
and see life from a higher gaze

and there's this touch blooming
from birds and semen and
ancient daffodil dust, flowering
with such unquenchable flames
and eternal breathing

again and again
it begins

http://www.southern.com/sue/art2/poppyfieldsmall.jpg

i'm doped
thick poppy seed sex
lovemaking earth shuddering planet

wings
strong winds
once gave me a ride -

then i became
the ride
myself

hope and dope
sex and warm necks
spring and a wing

what fun
is the sun!

a code, sworn to secrecy
is concealed in the clouds
only storks can break through

i, the stork, in question
wait for my chance
wing glided accuracy

and the sky opens
code unfolds:

orifice
of chance

everywhere you listen
spring is mentioning sex
birds have new and
colorful feathers wanting it
and the squirrels have bushier tails
just asking for it.
The flowers all advertise.
It's the season
where opposites meet.

closeness
and warmth
and scent
of open bossom
and seed

no animal
that would be sad now
or hypocritical
or be
ashamed

A seed has to go crazy before it can sprout.
It has to be swollen and drunk on moisture.
A seed just sits there through the winter, wondering how.
Then the enzyme insanity and
the rapturous rupture
and the blind root seeking.
A disciple of warmth.

the blind root longing
to shoot forth to the light

I went outside and took some photographs.

it's here, the dogs
are barkin' and the
birds are makin' a
racket, and Chief
kitties had Diego bird
in his clutches 3 times
today.......................

sun blossomimg
through the branches
while a daffodil
kisses the brown
still wintery earth
and the dogs
the dogs are barking