spring last year

wrote this may 1st, 2009, just sorta found it.  last year was a true awakening for me, as is this spring, two quite profound times in my life, and strangely, the same struggles.

spring arrived.
light - a beacon of hope,
erased
winter's
forlorn

solace.
Winter - a perspective, necessary.
A state of mind, temporary.
Spring. Change.
Nature, mind - cycles.

barefoot again,
walking unhindered.
layers shed, naked,
earth, mind - refreshed.
still,
you...

winter is still present.

a poem followed by a haiku

stuck behind a chicken truck

hostages/prisoners, crammed into cages

their first time seeing sunshine, breathing spring air -

a great day to be slaughtered.

smells like chicken shit and death.

next to a chicken truck,

the oppurtunity to make a pun would be now.

i thought the pun when i was there

staring at the chickens and feeling disgust and sorrow.

3 lines ago i should have made a pun.

a pun would be insensitive now, quite 'fowl'.

oh damn.

asshole.

passing the chicken truck, 

a bodily fluid spills from the top row of the truck -

piss, shit, vomit, etc.

a deprived existence yields intoxicating smells of death.

the fluid exits the topmost cages accompanied by an ungodly chickeny wretch

it smacks the pavement after gravity has its way with the unidentified viscous mass

sounds like a bucket of liquefied lard poured from 15 feet in the sky onto concrete.

rear-view mirror reflects the chicken truck,

flashback to reels of jews in trains.

it feels like

the chicken holocaust.

i enter the house -

stagnant pools of putrid slime.

death is everywhere.

dichotomy ku's

horrid gasps; coughing

sickly grey green ooze expelled

death comes for us all

sweetness on the breeze

dreamy pastel days of warmth

blue eyes mesh with sky

slugs

keep on fuckingkeep on fuckingkeep onfucking keepon fuckingkeep on fucking keeponfuckingkeeponfucking

i'll shrivel up eventually

pouring salt on slugs

pale and soft like an angel

you fuck, like salt

keep it up

i'll wash away with the rain

dream ku's

she appeared in dream

skin swathed in brilliant moon beams

naked and perfect

razed dandelions

you corrected my folly

"a holy flower"

making love felt real

- ephemerally holy -

felt loss in waking