THREE WISHES
I want to reach the state
where angels dance across my neurons
from tiptoe-crossed ethereal realms
while humming my spirit in the direction
of higher consciousness
with spells that guide me close enough
to smell the throne of God
I want to close my eyes
and instantaneously shift perception
to the precision point of total awareness
where what once was believed to be normal reality
begins to seem as if it was just a childlike illusion
as the true data pulses and throbs
in colours, shapes, signs, and visions
from dimensions that cannot be counted on fingers
I want to expand the inward horizon
with lucid dreams of precognition
that foretell what is still set to manifest
through glimpses that melt away my conditioning
and open the doorways to enlightenment
SIDEREAL NECTAR
Yellow neon fluorescence escaping
behind the cover of pines
full moon bows a graceful retreat
replaced by live wires and humming generators
I will write a poem on tea leaves
about ripened figs and the prince of parables
crown the skyline at five a.m.
while Venus dances to her own blinking pulse
electricity spells half of the story
a magnet clenched between teeth to attract the pull
cross-tide and chemical trails
hung from the wings of gods and ghosts
breathe deeply of the moment while it lasts
then beg for mercy that another arrives
ALL THE WORLD IS A STAGE
And the horses will gallop
and the cows will chew the cud
and the sheep will graze
(while being led astray)
and the vultures will perch
and the rats will scurry
and the turtles will shrink their heads
and the swine will bathe in their troughs
and the skunks will spray their scent
and the goats will gnaw on bones
and the wolves will hunt
and the foxes will manoeuvre with stealth
and the serpents will slither
and the salmon will swim
and the bulls will charge
and the frogs will hop
and the ravens will sing their refrains
and the owls will judge by night
and the ants will march after sugar
and the bees will buzz near the flowers
and the butterflies will flutter
and all the farm will play its part in kind
as both the shepherds
and the butchers watch over
Scott Thomas Outlar survived both the fire and the flood. He now spends his hours flowing and fluxing with the ever-changing currents of the Tao River.
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