crying

don't cry
over spilled milk

don't cry over
spilled nothingness
spilled emptiness
at all
don't cry over spilling thoughts
over spilled concepts of spilling
don't cry over STOPP-ing thoughts

I will kick every bucket
in this monastery
filled with heart
with emptiness
what I am clinging to
I have lost
given up

everything

my heart burns high
I kicked one hundred
buckets of kerosine
there is ash burning in flames
everywhere

a bundle of self-hatred
a bundle of pride
and a bundle of peace
inside

some shared desire
some shards
of  heart
broken
smelling.
inflamed
by kerosine
upon fire

“shall I kill you?
shall I suspect you of stealing?"
Of what?
Of nothing?
Better of emptiness,
that's more secure
more holy
and pure.

I have three things left
my heart
and emptiness
and – for this bucket of fire –
desire!
ཨ flame

the flame of my soul
burning
inflaming
incinerating
removing
emanating
EVERYTHING
but
eternity
now


בראשית ברא
'bereshit' in Hebrew
not to confuse
with “bear a (crock of) shit”
היום
today
without breaking your heart

like kicking
a bucket
of kerosine
– which is heart –
over spilling milk
or nothing, for that matter, not more but merely a thought –
inflamed
my heart bucket
incinerated
and bust
by the heat
of these flames
inspired by kerosine

and who wrote this book
that kerosine
might heal the world?

who filled my heart
with kerosine
was it you
my dear?
fearing that
it would break
otherwise
what did you do today -
prostrate?


or threw אלHEם
a bucket of Kerosine
on the flame
of my heart
to-day?


only the kitchen
is on fire


you carry the burden
of being a woman
of your intelligence
and dignity
well


20190905