tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313698462024-03-08T07:04:25.661-05:00No white clouds...in my blue sky!J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-70398238217800339802012-08-15T10:26:00.000-04:002012-08-15T10:26:25.590-04:00-no title-In between
soaring, falling
laughing, weeping;
the unknown seconds
of trivial
pursuits and
glorious recognition;
fear.
Moment of beginning
Moment of ending
where all is known
resolved or understood
surrendered or lost;
peace.
J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-49461178374777240812009-06-06T08:57:00.000-04:002009-06-06T08:58:09.709-04:00Locating selfI am not awakebut wakingI am not agedbut agingI am not learnedbut learningI am not movedbut movingI am not freebut strugglingI am not bravebut fightingI am not awakebut am wakingJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-72126499102410378132009-06-06T08:40:00.002-04:002009-06-06T08:52:27.314-04:00abstemious \ab-STEE-mee-uhs\, adjective:Morning dew settlessun is brilliantthe moon is unafraid still restingin a sea of blueand I wait for the musicin a bookon the far sideof what some callrealityIn secret, I write the rituals of dreamscalling of she and hewho would becast out for AnotherBy others who with bundles burnthe moments learnedin the midnightdance of darkness.So, modern Idream of timewatch the candle flamedance with my J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-76273449724379987212009-02-09T12:53:00.004-05:002009-02-09T13:02:02.068-05:00Vicarious VisionsViciousVicariousVisionsVehemently viewedthrough the color of rose stainedglass windowson Church Streetwhere dinneris served to the poorand homeless on sundayafter a bout of motivational-ly fearful words spill out like ricecakes on the floorhard to munchhard to swallowand then there are thosewho are not poornot hungryjust regularly requesting rightsroutinely written given and protected by the J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-50167012788045030482009-01-20T14:18:00.003-05:002009-01-20T14:52:00.319-05:00What I believeI believe in life, love, and the pursuit of every persontowards the destinationof their dreams;in equalityfor every personwithout interpretationdiscriminationand falsificationby any other; in our differences, they make us more the same than manywant us to embrace; andin the divine,the presence withinand withoutechoing in the beautifulvoice of every song,existingbeyond understanding, creed, sex, J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-31913614329920966112008-11-19T21:07:00.020-05:002008-11-19T23:36:11.379-05:00The music box(read to George Winston's Japanese Music Box)The wind moves through the trees; dancing blades of grass.The petals sing liketears upon . my . face.ohthecherryblossomsfallthe blossoms fallfall . like .  J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-79769494765714261262008-11-18T10:48:00.003-05:002008-11-18T10:54:07.248-05:00Tragic SeasonVermilion kissutter blisstossed as a giftof unwanted leafin disbeliefto the groundso sound, coldand unmet with sunwinter comessureal-lianblue the sky soaking upthe tears of springlost in the heartof fallthis isthe tragedy of seasonloss of colorand death of hueuntil naturedecides to paint againJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-58694281011324517732008-10-13T14:01:00.005-04:002008-11-30T15:40:55.853-05:00Bare Minimumsalvationsalivatingover mediocritysurvival ofa normalsocietycaptivating simplicityshatteringoutrageouswith religious legal-i-teasipped on summer daysmid-temperatureand mid-waythrough the countrystriped in bluebordered in redwishing democracy was deadI just wonderhow it all got this waythis middle of the roaddon't rock the boator make wavesin an ocean of peopleeach differenteach divinestill they J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-42673964491371263992008-10-12T16:40:00.005-04:002008-11-30T15:42:14.649-05:00origami wordsthey glide downthese paper butterfliescut recently from usednewspaperand left behind sticky notes of memoryquickly catchingmorning lightto restchaoticallyin unswept dustand discarded ideascrumpled beneath my chairJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-38986899347794774232008-07-08T13:29:00.002-04:002008-07-08T13:41:02.250-04:00Out of the Blueoil drippingoff a sapphire canvasspeckled with saltand peppered dreamswaking sleepersand momentaryjoy of existingoverwhelmthe winds of changeand topple doubtin a climate ofpolitical madnessand lobbisttemptationswhen out of the bluehe whispered"change"as if it where possibleas if it where true....and I find myself believing.J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-4849462044128506732008-06-26T08:37:00.004-04:002008-06-26T13:12:36.465-04:00Memor amicusyou: passingsomberlychariot racingwork-wardsmy hand: tremorwith the thoughtof wavesmy heart: bitesdownstill bitterwith ragemy mind: sighssadness oozes outas those aroundin anger speaktruthfullyof your betrayal.me: caughthalfway betweenforgive and get awaymissing the halfof you residing in memoryand forgettingeven the shadow youleave as youwalk awayJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-38464777568828984852008-04-17T12:48:00.001-04:002008-04-17T12:48:59.735-04:00How a star behavesit glitterssplintersdusts and glowswatching usmove to and frolike a diamondupon a ring of nighttaking accountof joy and frightIn sadness, in gleereading the storiesbetween you and methis is how a star behavesa silent observerof our livesJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-91669215638351250802008-04-17T12:47:00.001-04:002008-04-17T12:47:58.399-04:00:Eleanor Rigby: (Beatles / Remade by Godhead)"Lives in a dreamWaits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the doorWho is it for?" - Paul McCartneyEleanor and Isit by the window sillpeering out at the worldnever peering backWe make up conversationsweet and chipper cherryred delicious conversationbut the worldwill not converse backWe have swept the floor oftwe have ironed every curtainwe have scrubbed the floortill our J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-32752399065536480482008-04-11T11:47:00.002-04:002008-04-11T14:29:41.712-04:00NothingOur world is always buzzzingStreets are always filledWalkways are always trampledElectronics always blaringPhones are always talkingand copiers always humSleep is always dreamingand the waker always thinkingConstant movement and beingalways possessing the latest nowand it makes me wonder about nothingthere is no space for nothingthe quiet sense of absolute surrendering to silenceand the J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-16179969221048949232008-04-11T07:48:00.001-04:002008-04-11T07:48:34.806-04:00Apartment 1The daybegins with:echos of liferacing down asphaltwarm coffee in handand not enough sleep.and the pitter patter of neighbors' dogsold couch cushions tiltingand my love handing out kissesas we head out into the frey.The nightends with:the next doors talking to loudthe across the courtyardconversing on cellphones disregarding echowhile two floors up an argument flares.In the alleywaydog tags J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-22948244726514239122008-04-09T12:44:00.001-04:002008-04-09T12:44:17.470-04:00Ca•no•rous \kuh-NOR-us; KAN-or-uhs\It slips,sips, and sauntersacross the wayup the stairsof my soulresonatingwith each memory,moment and meticulouslykept secret.It curvesverves, and vibratesmelodic and methodic-all in its tenor and embrace.I am speechless, rendered helplessto visions and vexationstears and frustrations.I sway, dipspin and twirlMy body not my ownas it moves in, out, and through me.Up and downmixing emotion and J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-27793362233555302882008-04-08T18:32:00.000-04:002008-04-08T18:33:35.144-04:00Nine TimesNine times they cameThe men in suitsHands openMouths twisted In false prosperityNine timesNine of swordsMaking Ill fated treaties Of the soulNine timesEngine number sevenBillowed its smokeFor Industrial RevolutionWhile I lay stunnedAnd watch them comeLike lighting to dry grassTheir fire Left me thirsty forA time before nine.J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-20253009489008271612008-04-07T13:16:00.001-04:002008-04-07T13:16:06.024-04:00My name is... My name is wise woman, but secretly the wind whispers dreamsor orange dreaming of chocolate. My name is many namesmany facesand when we meetwe laughknowing our mothers flowed with the times. I don't want to flow. I want to be rebel against water, sand driving rain backwards, clouds calling back moisture, wind pulling mountains, rebellious. I want to be not what she hoped for - white wedding to J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-1400811836652429572008-04-04T17:27:00.001-04:002008-04-04T17:27:40.696-04:00Appreciatestaring back from the mirror I haveyet to clean because of work, work-out, and other whimsical oblicationsis you,which is me.and just in case I forgetwith all the rush and the messthank youfor being youfor being meandthe woman you've becomestaring back at me.J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-51726300242750869052008-04-03T12:07:00.004-04:002008-04-03T13:40:11.854-04:00from page 26 in my copy of PoemCrazySilence over whelms me in this not so crowded room. A cough and a sneeze are the only moments reminding me I am morethan an extension of this somberly straight penciland my life more permanent than the word I just erased.J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-84559210377567520792008-04-03T11:46:00.001-04:002008-04-03T11:46:10.465-04:00Honey Bee Haikuhoney bee dust divine fruits of labornature's silk roadJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-2842247885675061642008-04-03T10:19:00.004-04:002008-04-03T11:38:41.357-04:00Thoughts on FreeTasks masksand momentary peacemade out of bartering lordsfor weapons and sections ofgenetic puritysearching with wolfish grinsto sin more divinelyin the presenceof the holy dollar signand then there is mesearching for balancein a world too unsureand not afraid enoughof their own actionssubject to searchesunconstitutionalbut necessaryto be freeliesfriesand a medium coke,please.caught on tapeat J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-91512381960874786242008-04-02T16:10:00.002-04:002008-04-02T16:16:57.381-04:00Cupwhitewith a red gloss insideand the words 'Eudaemonic' boldly blazingacross the middle,a red declaration of purposebleeding out from the canvasof clayevery dayfilled up and emptiedstriving to alwaysbewhat the artistsought for me.but I wonderif what I was supposeto be was this.why not an islandor a tray of bliss-ful lemons setout to greet friends?why not a tissueor a sports shoeor even a tea J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-18260518254219832392008-04-02T09:37:00.001-04:002008-04-02T09:37:27.901-04:00Firststhe floor felt normalwith the way motion flowedacross my back:the pad of need,the stomp of desire,and the guilty slide of give.That isuntil I sat up andsaid "no", "You can't",and "I won't."your faces a portrait ofdisbelief, mistreat, unkeptweeping, and sweeping disappointment.J.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31369846.post-36042601048969144222008-03-21T13:57:00.003-04:002008-03-24T09:06:12.304-04:00When the wind settlesWhen the wind settles,leaves have left their placefinding crevasses anew to restearth is revealedwhere once only hues of life treadand bending branches ease from submitting to the gale.When the wind settles,the path once so familiarcarries the weight of something newand the waking senseof changeJ.D.F.http://www.blogger.com/profile/05380947452660305453noreply@blogger.com