Arte Soy

If there ain’t no answer then maybe there’s a question
Why I wind up with a certain indigestion
Was there something you forgot to mention
About your true intention?

Well I am another you so I myself know what is true
There’s only one thing left to do, let me be me and you be you
And pray we find a way for us both to get through
And turn these gray skies to blue

All the names and all of the faces
All the minor fall from graces
And the major, shyness toward a stranger
Was there really a danger?

All the games in all of the places
All the cards that weren’t aces
Or that were, and I didn’t wager
I was trying to cage her

From the ashes the phoenix rises
Out of the muck the lotus springs
From the peeled back disguises
Out of bondage freedom rings

And I sing, and I sing, and I sing…

© Joshua Mapp Weiss 2010

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bite me,
let me bleed
golden yellow, liquid sunlight.
sweet, sticky nectar.
seductive sweetness.
chew my yellow, red, saffron, orange,
rings of saturn, blushing skin.
feel my juice cloying to your fingers
like wild logwood honey.
savor me, ambrosia,
for the gods came to earth
not to make fire,
but to taste my divine florescence.
ravish me in my liberated ripeness,
succulent feast for the palate.
slurp me with ecstatic delight,
swallow my fountains of joy,
drink in my smooth summer richness.
squish me without mercy,
squirt my flowing
fruitiness all over your face.
let me drip down your arms
to your elbows,
then lick my every molecule.
let me drip down your chin
to your chest, to your belly button.
indulge me,
for it was me, not the apple, that
tempted adam.
suck my seed,
extract the last drop of milk
from the stars.
nourish your body,
satisfy your heart and soul
as only me, jamaican mango, can.

(Ian Mair contributed this.)

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For Greg

Please do not comment.

(Delio Regueral contributed this.)

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Escaping from the catacombs, and realigning the lights, while next year’s mysteries penetrate the blythe, the bright.  10: Hyperion, halcyon, empyrean, sidereon.  This year and next truly hyperion.  30: Furthering the fuchsia, their orchids breathing fast, 50-100:  We celebrate concelebrant, within Adam Protoplast.  1000-1500: Is their a dynasty?  Which is the dynast?

(Sande contributed this.)

1 Comment » Posted by admin / Contributors and Poetry and Sande and Uncategorized

I write sitting
Unwittingly submitting me to a chair
And I dare peer into my mind
What’s behind?

I dither
Rather, I gather
I …
A knowing arises
Disguises reveal the real

What’s the deal? I often wonder
Blunder upon blunder, like thunder
Running about in underwear
A boy terror

It’s plain to see, except for me
I keep turning away before
Afraid of ghosts and ghoulishness
Keep a path of righteousness

Yet the dark night reveals star light
I close my eyes to hide my fright
Gazing inward to such delight

And bitter shame
At my failures to play a game
Worthy of the better parts of you and me

So let the two beget one
The true, the Self, the source, the sum
Sentient, supreme, sublime fun

1 Comment » Posted by admin / Joshua Mapp Weiss and Poetry

I know
that you and I are through
of living like we do
time for something new
time for something new

It’s not that I don’t cherish
the love we share
it’s  just that
the moments are too few
the moments are too few

Why this life forlorn?
time to be reborn
there’s a door in space
to another place
and I am walking through
I am walking through

This place is love and letting go
this place is free to be and show
feelings, dealing with the  true
dealing with the  true

Oh shame, oh blame
oh the fighting that we do
Oh break up just to make up,
time we wake up me and you
wake up me and you

© Joshua Mapp Weiss 2009

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El destino en este viaje no es lograr llegar…es lograr estar.

Cuando estoy alineada conmigo y con todas las dimensiones de mi, el universo se expande y puedo entender que cada uno de nosotros tiene su propio viaje y sus propias dimensiones de si.

Me pertenezco y le pertenezco a todo.

Me voy creando cuando respeto mis distintas dimensiones; amo los errores y la perfección, al mismo tiempo.  Establezco límites que ondulan entre unos y otros.

Necesito probar que soy lo que amo y amo lo que soy, para entender que cada uno de nosotros está en la misma clase de prueba.

Tenemos el derecho de ser felices y completos a imagen de Dios, de Dios que esta en los cielos???  Alguna historia me contaron un día de niña, que habíamos sido creados a la imagen y semejanza de Dios, y yo lo creí tan profundamente que aún lo creo.  Si es que hay un Dios en los Cielos, habrá un Dios en cada uno de mis cielos, en cada uno de mis universos, de diversos colores e idiomas.

“Yo soy católica mama?” me preguntó mi hija.  La mire y reí, “No,” contesté, “los católicos son los que van a misa y rezan todos los días….yo lo sé porque así crecí.”  Ella está libre de historias y religiones, para ella son variadas, y yo la amo, es mi hija, es el alma de mi corazón.

Las dimensiones, los dioses, las personas, los universos, las razas, los países, todo desaparece cuando amo el viaje al estar y no buscar llegar.

(Fiorella Podestá contributed this.)

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Start stop a trip trot
Drip drop down
Mellow yellow
Under blue top white spot
In the flip flop town
Coconuts hang in gangs
Green and brown
Most corners of this town

Soundtrack backdrop
A euphonic tonic
To a mental disharmonic
Light the wick
To your soul’s philharmonic
One Love Truth
Multicolored and supersonic
Tip tap tune in
Time you and I win

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Words on a page redden with rage
She’s angry again, he’s back in the cage
“It’s only a stage,” a voice does say
So why the fright?
Just turn the page into a gape
And make your escape
Write
Here and now
But how?
How?
HOW?
Like a dog’s bow-wow,
Au naturel
A spontaneous act
To this matter of fact

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