Self portait upon hearing one's own voice

I read through my own
observations with the speed and precision
of joyless creation
unbending to the forms and figures
as if passing over miles and decades
of unending text unfurling behind
like a spool of delicate ribbon

there is little value in pointing
out how little value there is
in these said observations,
an obtuse echo,
a ringing in my ears
of a not altogether unpalatable
sound, but not exactly
one I clamor for.

words and picture by BCFL

Pura Esencia

Barreling aimlessly through eons of darkness

I’ve come to rest at your feet

With none other to offer

But measly shreds of condensed energy

Measured out in loud, labored breaths

And globules of shiny, white matter

All manner of talents

Equate to nothing

In the court of reality

And matter not to the high judges

In their flowing garments of

Credentials and opulent achievement

You, as an honorary member of this committee,

Find value in quiet,

In the scent of the moonlight

Reflected upon the choppy waves,

In the smell of the lowly

And chagrined nape of my neck

Where you deposit

Love and miraculous

Touch upon touch

words and picture by BCFL