Arte Soy

2:58 am: My feet are almost as calloused as your hands always were. These hands are virginal apparati with a texture similar to that of honey or warmed dough. Virtually unmarred and scrape-free. Clearly, they do not make nearly enough.

3:02 am: My head is buried in my pillow now and I’m thinking this can’t be healthy- being reminded of your life by the faintest sound of music that you never even got the chance to hear. I’m wondering if I’m sick for never wanting to forget; for fearing Alzheimer’s at age seventy more than Death at age thirty, for wishing for any physiological malfunction over amnesia. I’d like to always be able to recall the inflection of your voice when you would ask what it was I had learned in school that day. At twelve, it posed as a hideous question. But at twenty, not so much.

“What did you learn in school today?”   Now, that’s a poem.

(Sarah Martin contributed this.)

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Heal us, Lord, make us whole
Shine your light on the dark of our soul
Let us see with new eyes and hear with new ears
Let us taste, touch and smell you in the joy of our tears

And when the sky grows cloudy and gray
Send your angels here to guide us on our way

Bless us, Lord, grant us grace
Walk with us in your holy place
Let us smile with love and laugh with glee
Let us dance and play, wild and free

And when our minds grow cloudy and gray
Send your angels here to guide us on our way

Give us courage, strength and will
For the purpose for which we are here to fulfill
Let our lives be a song born of music and art
And let us sing it aloud and straight from the heart

And when the world grows cloudy and gray
Send your angels here to guide us on our way

© Joshua Mapp Weiss 2009

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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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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.)

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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

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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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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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I got a message for all the masses
my third eye
wears 3-D glasses

you may get high
but you’ll never surpass this

when you bring the static
I got homeostasis

everybody’s trying to rob me of my calm
it’s like playing hot potato
with an activated bomb

but when I get the feeling that my blood is getting warm
I just chill out
take no pills out
and I open up my palm

you can call me a pacifist
because I write my rhymes so I don’t pass a fist

it’s hard to tell the difference between anger and love
when you meet a pretty girl
and then you strangle her with hugs

so I drink
kava kava and not vodka

so I can chug a lug

and be a mellow fellow
when I pass out on the rug

when it comes to fighting
I just sit down and I write it
I’m a big guy pound for pound
so I can’t get all too excited

it only takes a small flame for wick to get lighted
you’ll only have yourself to blame
when your ignorance ignites it

this world’s a powder keg so if you’re carrying a load
you had best express yourself
or you’re gonna explode.

(Benjamin Shahoulian contributed this.)

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