Mother

Hold me, child.
Hold me sunny,
strange days ahead now.

Brack river underneath my bones,
child, you will be wont to drink it;
resist every temptation.

Hold the weak now,
hold steadfast a solder's mask
a deity's substance
hold fast now, child.

Coming miles up now and we forgave him naught.
Hold the line, child
Help me heal
wounds bandaged dirty
by the sun now

Hold the heals, child.
Hold me as you're breaking apart now
you're crazy if you want to make crazy
Hold the heals now.

Mend cracks in the skin
hold it together, child.
bleed the sun dry tomorrow

Hold tight now,
it's the sudden dancing macabre bodies underneath it all.
Secrets of secrets.
Hold me now, child,
if you want to see me.


Mother by Michael W. Hyde is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

This is the final revision for "Mother," a piece I channeled some weeks ago. It was performed for the first time April 22, at GaiaFest 2008.

The Bumblebee Yawns

the bumblebee yawns
dewdrops can't sparkle in mystical haze
tulips can't open without the giant yellow thing
wheat blades ripple from westerly breaths
the bumblebee yawns

the ant drives
through morning rushhour, pissed that he's so late
oak leaves heavy wet asymmetrical
forboding cargos
the ant drives

the earthworm gorges
i must get home, i must get home
prays for his family merely six inches below
gray nothing above looms a stressor
the earthworm gorges

robins do the traffic
flutter and siren their approach
if only so they don't hit one another
squabble wrens for the best parking spots
robins do the traffic

posies open for business
hunter gatherers dance the grand opening
scavengers have camped all night
now they can eat their tents
posies open for business

god sneezed awake, and it was good
eyes opened and a finger pointed to the east
there's the giant yellow thing
hopefully it brought a fan or two to clear this pea soup
god sneezed awake

The Bumblebee Yawns by Michael W. Hyde is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.

Illegitimate Stamen

Photo by Linda Bowman, shared under a Creative Commons 3.0 License.



I am a clone.


not because
it's cool
rather the converse

millions of brothers and sisters,
all me
and vice versa
crowd the nursery
under a thousand white-hot
artificial suns

manure and shrimp entrails
the sustenance of choice

but
because of it
and with the help of a spritzer bottle
a purple-powdered glow
emanates

mother, she was a purebred
a salmon-skinned beauty
dad, a scarlet handsome


and yet
i wait to wither.


pick me.



pick me.

Illegitimate Stamen by Michael W. Hyde is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Corporate Food Chain

I saw this earthworm
real skinny one, old and long and kinda smart ... looking
but really skinny, like anorexic skinny
and he (they're asexual, so it's not like he has a gender) was
slinking down the concrete sidewalk
but parallel with the grass on either side.
(I guess he wasn't so smart after all)
Every couple of inches he would
grind his head into the ground
looking, I can only assume, for loose soil.

He rammed incessantly: crawl, slam, crawl, slam
and I didn't want to move him, I
mean, I rooted for the poor guy but
I wanted to see what happened next.
He got to a seam in the concrete and
veered right, and the slamming increased
threefold. I thought he was gonna win
the contest.


Then he started to sniff the concrete again
then he turned right around and went
back the way he came.
and every couple of inches he would
grind his head into the ground
I thought he almost had it. Almost.

It's too bad he's blind.
And not six feet taller.

Corporate Food Chain by Michael W. Hyde is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.