Myriad Mirmona

“The mystery of life;
see the oneness in others.”

Yes, in the separated others,

the bigots,
tyrants,
destroyers,

the fags,
invalids,
children,

“a fag brings a flower to a child,
a bigot kills them,
but the child does not die and
ails into old age without the use
of legs”,

the uneducated poor,
dutiful middle class,
gluttonous rich.

Oh, and the
bacteria, insects,
animals, plants,
humans, cyborgs,
aliens, deities, simulations.

“A sameness of individuals;
The One of Many Ways.”

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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World In Night

I go out into the world.
It’s dark.
Only insects, lamplight, and night.
You’re not there.
Evil is though.
Lots of evil is out there,
all around in the night.
The trees gather closely
over the sidewalk.
These trees know how to live
with good and evil.
Humanity does not.
So I am scared.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Three Hundred Fifty Five Million

The waveform people took it.
The form of love between us,
the gravity.
Back to their mansion in the woods,
on a planet
three hundred fifty five million
light years away.
Can you see it leaving in the city?
In every city on the planet,
past the grimey stains
on subway stairs.
The people leaving the cities
to live like the waveform people,
in their woods
three hundred fifty five million
light years away.
Let them walk upon earth and snow
in the winter.
Said the waveform people.
Let them cherish their human
manners.
But the mansion is not there.
Only the blue sky
of the waveform people above.

Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
Humble,Humble Love thumbnail image
Humble, Humble Love (poetry book)

Domestic Greenleaf

Something by the river spooked me and
I thought about my finances.

Everyday
we have eaten in the kitchens of Rome
since then.

You went shopping in a furniture store.

We have bottles of olive oil and herbs
in our home of domesticity.

The visitors come, their hearts are warmed,
the scented candles burn.

An achy knee needs a bubble bath,
Fuzzy Wuzzy.

– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Saidness

You move on me, not like a mirror,
but like daylight.

A dying man’s life was really a day,
one long day of life:
watch the sky open, watch the sky close.
This cloudscape belongs above Montana.

You step in me, not like mud,
but like river:
unlike the cat chase of Mohenjo-Daro,
unlike the Martian meteorites.

The turquoise from the jewelry-makers of God
I take from your eyes
and hold onto the colors of day.
There: life is frozen.

O Antarctica, only you have beaten time,
or so
the foreign-exchange students
from the mermaid-lands
have told me.

I love you, football, tender, tender.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
from:
lovers of the century thumbnail image
Lovers Of The Century (poetry book)

Appointment With Directors

Chase the hills in Mexico,

followed the tones of your skin into shadows,

by the morning the sun was there

all eyes were open
and the beaches bartered eternity,

I reached for a tortilla.

The moss and mold hid, then fell apart
underneath
the eyes of the onward looking directors of Universe.

Afternoon cascaded down your legs
dribble dribble
and my head feels so good,
I smell the old plants,

let me eat the oranges in a still room,
god damnit, I am like an old man.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Until I Have To Go Back To Work

You get to have 2 days off?

You guys are going to plug away at each other’s
buttholes
for 2 days straight.

Malachi answers
“Yes.”

“I’m going to try to keep my penis inside his ass
for the entire 48 hour period
until
I
have
to
go
back
to
work.”


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Alien Heads, The Candy

Alien heads,
oh alien heads
laid in bed
looking at a planet
they’ve
come from
so very far away
I laid with
a woman with
an alien head,

the shape of the
suburban housewife’s bob,

the genetic memory
where she came from,

across our
luscious cells.

We stare at the window
blinds
where there is some form
of day
that’s out there.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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Mother’s Poem

Heaven
I think is being able to love.

No, not drugs.

not the love of drugs.

Love. Love!

Love, love, love, love.

Love is not the love of drugs.

For heaven is being able to love

without using drugs

with the pure feel of love

in the sunshine
like kittens.

Like 2 little kittens in the sun.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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At The Axis Of Night

When the desert was outside
I dragged the dildo outside
and pointing to the South wind
I plaintively said your name,
looking at the edges of Tuscon,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.
The wet glaze on the
polyvinyl chloride phallus
became lost and muffled,
muddled with dust.
I coughed and my lungs hurt,
a lone bird chirped in the distance
towards the east,
towards the chain hotels,
the sad glow of logos,
the chain restaurants,
the generic corporate way of life
we all know.
Then,
I walked back inside to watch
Channel 8,
still mumbling to myself,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.


– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin
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