Mouth of Flower
Octavio Ocampo

Mouth of Flower
Octavio Ocampo

Tags: Illustration

moreso and so

wee hours
of the day
find me most

when the town
is lost
in slumber

is my dusk —
a deafening din of
daily dirge

midday moves me
from miasma

and so goes ennui
until the wee hours.

cut to
continent two —

i wonder how
you do
in the wees
of your nights,

my days?

ever spin & we’ll

pullin down the relay switch
don’t you try and stop me
goose and gander’s gone by now
to that meadow over yonder

hey que será, yeah - será!

the upshot & the all of it
is an ending most unlikable
you can’t throw the babies
out with the bath, when
every minute a new one’s born

comme ci and unh! comme ça!.

trains are ‘a comin round the bend
both ways, on a single track
better shine em quickly, son
they got some rad juking left for you…

playing field’s in need of daisies if you do
been spreading it thick-like, weren’t you all?
with my forty acres and a mul(l)e(t)
and the burros over the dale

sing one last song for old glory now
one last spin, place your bets
take one last drag, then you’ll stub it
or do i get the honor…

let’s give that wheel a shove, shall we?

nama se, nama sa, nama so.
(says my son - better listen!).

Thank you post-post-ironic editor’s staff

bestowing the favorited tag upon my written post “such as”,
which gently decries the need to always write about things…….

such as…

though honestly attained and
deeply held,
there are some things
that need not be written about…



languid landscapes
lying in dust, gray ash;
wind howls hard, un-hot
grit & dust, again
& again.

spirits shadowboxing in the shade;

eluding the procession
of passers-by who persist
in barrenness,

leaving their yearnings
and their yesterdays
to historians.


(Source: lebuc)

thirteen flights of fancy

one simple impulse
flows thru time and space

two matching partners
grow to share a place

three telling features
leaven thru the years

four debated outcomes
living’s new arrears

five the counting covers
adorned and peeled anew

six the veritable tenure
of the lengthening view

seven makes the musings
as mellow as the real

eight captures blessings
we’re sensing and we feel

nine reaches the apex
endowing you with faith

ten heralds passing
to evade the fabled wraith

eleven intends to broaden
certain lovers’ paths

twelve trends toward ending
to learn of sacred crafts

while thirteen is the quickening —
the ending of the maths.


my heart is like a thing
that did a thing
when you said that thing
at the thing

went home
thought long and hard
about the thing
we could be

if we’re willing
to let the thing do
what the thing does
our conversation
pleased me so - though
i don’t dare get more specific
at this stage

you know and i know
the one sure thing
we can agree upon

take the chance at finding
being with,
that special someone —

the one thing
that makes every other thing

poet’s defense

we lay down the letters
lightly & soft

unzip the headlines’
urgency off

bind up the decay
throw it away

wordfind a level
above the fray

cool, calm & placid
establish a mood

entraining spirits
for comforting food

insense the imprints
in intimate tense

prose into prayer
the poet’s defense.

(Source: lebuc, via lebuc)

fettered, luminescing


an eerie glow
by the gutter drain
a prelude
to the unforseeable

up close,
under the grate
beside the neighbors’
basement window

a meandering swarm of fireflies,
like capers
in a mason jar

i took a latch
from my workbench’s shelf,
levered open the grate

in surprise and awe
i stepped back

friends came running
to the sight
of the steady, slowly-shifting
illuminated procession

upward and out
upward and out
into the dimming azure sky

i, at least
still wonder how
they found themselves

in that place, at that time
under that grate


as they’re wont to do

and why —

if not for
the benefit of
these lines,

the luxury of falling

at tremble times,
a focused mind
gives me repose
for my long road ahead

were you here
then i’d know
culling from kindling,
& i’d take my hat off to questing

o’er hills and valleys
stretched upon a rock or two

of times when we held onto
the luxury of falling —

caught by loving arms.


when someone asks me
what is romance

i always say
a glass of water
accidentally dropped
on the floor —
water spilled
all over the place.

they always say
“uhh…that’s not romantic at all.”

i say, “ah, but it is
the glass didn’t break.”


at my feet
to the side of the walkway
a white-winged,
black-spotted butterfly alights
on a jagged green dandelion leaf

paying scarce notice
to the pensive, lumbering giant
in air-force one’s
passing by

as i pay
scarce notice
to the looming, labeled
Air-Force One everyone
says i should

while striding,
feet on the ground
with the rest of creation
as i’m wont
to do.

(Source: lebuc)

(via azukilynn)

gift redux

gift (pts 1 & 2)
take this sunflower
it’s rotted i know

but when i picked it
it looked firm,
smelled fresh

and i hardly got
on my shoes
any mud from the yard

where it lay.


le buc - wednedsay 9/2014


thought long and hard

about where to find
in my heart
a heft to express

about where to find
in my yard
a gift to impress

upon you
just what you meant

what i feel
for you, now
that’s real

please accept this gift
from my hand
& my heart


thursday, 9/2014
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