the Sun is my gOd.

the Moon : my gOddess.

Manhattan : my first lOve.

    & Brooklyn : 

        my hOme.

 

ODE TO THE BROOKLYN EARN

In unity, there is strength.

 

searching for authenticity

poetry is a waste of time

time is of the essence

the essence of success 

        .the cessation of 

time

PROGRESS    

        flushed away 

poetry's vitality

    the cesspool of reality

YOU MUST SUCCEED

by any means necessary

    the means justify the ends

until the end of time

all in good time

faster 

    than a speeding bullet

ride the 

    (rail)

        against the machine

        deus ex machina

    denouement

close shave

rinse and repeat

        and repeat

            and repeat

a to b to a to b to c to b to a

lulled back to sleep

stay gold 

    phony boy

you must take the J train

for the best morning commute 

into Manhattan

the french aristocracy 

never saw it coming either

letting everyone down would be 

my greatest unhappiness

make em laugh 

    make em laugh 

don't you know everyone 

wants to laugh

.Ha.Ha.

let's put a smile on that 

                                                              (face)

                                                 .the music.

obligatory

        encore

            encore

            encore

they are watching

    open your eyes

they didn't know real love 

could look like this too

maybe everything is fiction

        it's better to burn out 

    than to fade away

Poetry is sculpture, 

not interior decoration, 

and must come from 

the poet's head.

        heart.

            .all there is.

Often enough,

    the killing will be done so without style or sincerity, 

the matador making as little of it 

as he can in order to decrease

its importance, 

that the spectator will have no idea of the emotion and the spectacle that a properly killed bull will give.

(bellows)

The trumpet of a prophecy!

O Wind, if Winter comes,

can Spring be far behind?

The light wraps you 

in its immortal flame, 

abstracted pale mourner, 

filled with the lives of fire, 

pure heirs to the ruined day.

Love me, companion.

Do not forsake me. 

Follow me - 

    but my words become

stained with your love.

    .you occupy everything, 

you occupy everything.

Clasping my arms 

    like a climbing plant 

the leaves garnered your voice, 

that was slow and at peace.

Bonfire of awe in which 

my thirst is burning.

Let your deep eyes close. 

    There the night flutters.

Ah your body, 

    a frightened statue, 

naked.

Your breast is enough for my heart,

and my wings for your freedom.

What was sleeping above your soul will rise out of my mouth to heaven.

Here all the winds let go sooner 

or later, 

.all of them.

You are here.

I love you.

Kadosh

    kadosh

        kadosh

to the rising sun.

Green

    is the land of my ode, green and fertile.

(montage of brooklyn playgrounds overrun.bursting at the seams)

Little town in the woods,

how do you find me --

            charged 

with the earthly body of man 

or with his words and deeds?

I will not give birth to a child 

to bear the burden of my life.

The journey hasn't yet begun, 

the road hasn't ended - 

so let us go the highest mural

(wrap around mural)

Green and high 

    is the land of my ode - 

the words of God at dawn.

Hold onto the hope that I bring you.

Let us take a walk through time.

(wind through Danielle's hair)

    In every wind 

a woman teases 

her poet.

Take this ode 

if you wish.

I have nothing 

            in it 

but you.

    (to the moon)

Between writing and speech 

            a star will fall.

What wind brought you here?

Tell me the name of your wound.

Beauty leads me to the beautiful,

and I love your love unchained 

by its essence and attributes.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty--

that is all ye know on earth,

    and all ye need to know.

I am my own double.

(pickle tubbers)

Rhythm is not the creation of words, but of two bodies become one 

in a long night.

Young girl, 

what has 

    desire 

done to 

you? 

The wind 

    refines us.

        .carries us 

like autumn's scent.

On my walking stick, 

    (peach to peach)

you ripen and ripen -

    (pan to rest of market)

    but the earth is a feast.

    (spot of blood)

This is my language, 

        this sound 

is the twinge of my blood.

    (flip through notebook)

- write to be - 

    (flip through books)

- read to find -

    (up to you)

If you wish to speak, 

    you must take action.

Thus your opposing pair becomes 

one 

in the meaning.

    (shh)

The transparent one within you

is your ode.

I need a dolla.        dolla

        dolla. 

        is what I need.

    (not our size)

In exchange, let me contemplate 

the stars.

    (to god)

You cannot trap the immortal.

So do with us and with yourself         whatever you wish.

    (globe)

I wish to live. 

I have work to do 

on this bit of geography.

    (360 view)

I want to live here as if I am forever, burning with lust for the unknown.

I have work to do 

for the eternal presence 

            of today.

(in pursuit of magic/j to crescent church)

What use is Spring, if it does not bring joy to the dead.restore life?

That is one way to solve 

the riddle of poetry.

Share in the passion of night.

steal along the language of desire, where earth and heaven merge 

within.

(subway goers)

Relax.

Perhaps you are 

exhausted today.

        Who am I 

that you should 

pay me a visit?

        Do you have time 

to consider my poem?

    .come with me while 

I start my brief visit to 

space 

    and 

        time.

(snap of lighter black to scene)

Green 

    is the land of my ode

green and high.

(close up puff.exhale.puff.exhale.)

- pass -

.Abbey.Abbey.Abbey.

(my fingers enter)

    (i almost exist)

I will dream.

(myth)

    myth has already taken place a plot within the real.

My present, like my future, 

is with me.

    (last 0:11 of manifesto)

The dream has untied my wings.

LIBERTY 

is not to be as they want us to be 

but to enlarge our home.

to carry on our everlasting song. 

    (pigeon flock)

The greatest absurdity is that nothing is new and time is past.

I've had enough yesterdays; 

what I need is a tomorrow.

The mind is nothing 

        but smoke

let it be lost!

The heart is our guide.

(walking the rainbow path)

Be what we are: vigorous creatures fully immersed in the physical world.

In us is poetry. 

        energy. 

                joy.

(bird taking off)

.leaP.

 

 

.hold on to this.

If children are verbs, 

then 

please

please

please

let 

us 

be

.

 

 

 

 

Mahmoud Darwish, Pablo Neruda, Brian Doyle, Ernest Hemingway