1. danger

    denying the reality of fences
    i turn face to the harsh wilderness
    driven sun burning feet walked about

    food locked in agriculture
    ideas locked in alphabets
    souls locked in markets
    death locked in governments
    religion tradition rules

    the string of the balloon
    slipped the fist loose

    fear tore love
    gurgling wet
    from the guts
    of the beast

    i deny the existence of fences
    designed to contain fear

    set my face harsh
    wild unnamed
    into love

    so i am

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  2. {turning the essence and surface}

    repetition being
    a kind of change

    a land woven
    lines a loom
    sunshine on blue sky
    strings in a cloud frame
    whites to shimmering grays
    smooth gravelly

    rich dark brown swaths striped
    in black soaked wet dirt clumps
    clumped in piled up rows
    earth turned over from sleep
    rolled parallel one after another
    then young blistering green
    edged road grass

    next stripe silver shoulder
    glowing bone reflector strip
    followed by orange caution yellow
    neon solid to mark the lane
    the black car on the road
    mustard colored slashes dot
    dotted center now past next
    now past next now past next

    being a kind
    of change

    for another gray lane
    white shine pebble border
    wide stunning grassy swirls
    the black earth tattooed
    in draining water grooves
    etched ditches in planet

    reaching to more sky blue sky
    clouds puff on a sky blue sky
    cloud swipe swaths across
    the expanse the vehicle
    travels swift glide down
    the center of the wide 
    shiny day

    long strands of hair fly wild
    out the windows blown
    with a tune on a stereo
    loud on repeat over and over
    and over perfect weather
    to fly elbows out
    down a spring road
    looming and weaving

    being a
    kind of

    repetition being
    repetition being
    repetition being
    a kind of change
    in looming weaving

    where i sense
    i have spent time
    with you undetected
    and unremembered
    of that i am certain i am

    only in dreams

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  3. every one is so…

    beautiful and lively
    and dog loverly
    this morning

    delicious vibes to you all<3
    today i might be ?
    all action
    no words

    happy spring, anyway
    good vibes and big love

  4. read Delmore Schwartz’s story In Dreams Begin Responsibilities last night. of course i adore it. apparently the dog, who spent some time with it this morning, also liked it. 

  5. Guillermo does love his chest rubs <3


  6. mix well with sweat and cardio

    Here they are, lying down flat backs against the soft mattress, eyes pointed at the white textured plaster ceiling, side by side. Not so much holding hands but alternating, taking turns, studying the other’s hand while they are speaking. 

    They are seeing how many jokes they can remember, one from each then back to the other, irregardless of quality. The goal is merely to have something with any kind of punchline to say when it’s your turn. 

    When one is talking the other gives their hand over to manipulation by the listener’s hand. Who might examine it, closely or tender or rough. They might puppet it around, flop it back and forth or make crude signs with it. Whoever’s turn it is to tell a joke, they just have to keep speaking, no matter what is going on with their hands. 

    They have been at it for awhile. They are laughing hard by now. What started as muffled and staunched snickers has progressed past chuckling to full blown gales and is well on its way toward guffaws. 

    At which point, they are one joke away from the moment when their laughter fully overtakes them. Then they are pounding their feet against the bed. Knees bent and flat soles thumping the sheets, switching back and forth in exaggerated flutter kicks and bouncing themselves up and down, up and down, straight into even harder crack-ups. 

    Furthermore, with so many hysterics, each of their parts have swollen to trampolining, high jumping proportions. Humor being the sexiest thing ever.


  7. no-one steps into the labyrinth
    in order to make a quick get away

    no-one denies a coincidence 
    unless they have secretly segued 

    no-one gets out of a living minute
    no matter how talented they may be

    when you were sitting across the surface
    but looking in the opposite direction
    i experienced the communication
    in your pattern of breathing
    the way your chest moved
    said things without words
    i won’t cheapen further

    the pat on the back
    was a spontaneous
    reaction to the unexpected
    second hand laid upon
    the top of yours
    from nowhere meaningful
    nowhere measured
    just happened

    without even coincidence
    to show for it

    no-one will ever know how much or
    if it was reciprocal least wise

    neither you nor i


  9. bought a new record today
    can’t be completely sure yet
    but i think this is my favorite track


  10. bucked

    the bridge of the song
    spans the twist in the mobius strip

    likely are we
    to topple off

    the ship is not made by man
    organic vessel

    leafy cupped hand loose
    wet amrit shine

    to the light to move
    along the river

    until it takes
    on water

    into the one
    paregoric dream

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  11. center diameter circumference

    tied k(not) in the middle but to the end
    we are forever tethered to our wits
    funeral and grave dance

    it may not be a knot
    but there is something
    in the middle between
    blowing it all up and opting
    out altogether

    the jester lives at court
    after all the sounds
    i could teach
    you to make

    imagine the goat
    caper and corn
    finding her tether

    at rope’s end
    where else
    of course

    i think it is impossible
    to waste a sunset

    in all the languages
    which will you regret
    not having spoken in

    a sleight of a word
    at hand so much more
    than images

    the genius
    at work
    gets less vacation days
    than the pure
    and stupid

    life is a memory of us
    welcome home

    Tagged #poetry #jillc

  12. and when you sense the time
    of your own dying
    switch languages
    speak in touch

  13. sock lovers
    yes, it has been too long
    yes, those are mushrooms
    yes, they go all the way up to my knees
    {no, they don’t really much match my outfit}

    and yes, i am slurping coffee directly from my thermos
    this morning. good vibes you all. 


  14. it is always at the end of our rope that we are hung


  15. our quiet

    emotional memory
    feels your hand
    introducing me
    to my own

    suggest i speak
    with myself amid
    patient listening

    filled with distilled
    internal cogitation

    before pouring

    without knowing
    i dreamed

    my first words
    in silence

    finding invisible
    voice inside

    your mouth
    upon mine

    Tagged #poetry #jillc