An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – Fire Breather, Beach Sun

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An excerpt from my new novel Fire. Sun. Salutation
Get your copy today on Amazon.com: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Fire-Sun-Salutation-collection-transformations/dp/0692362762
or if you live in Philadelphia, copies are available from the Random Tea Room (located at 713 n. 4th street)

from the story “Fire Breather, Beach Sun”:
Joe Cockren raises his right thumb to Neil Redrun’s right ear and flicks it. Underneath his sunglasses Neil wakes only slightly disturbed. The green smoke from the last joint still settling onto the golden sand. His towel creates a pillow for the crown of his beach bum head. The girls giggle as the boys wrestle and dig a hole with the force of their motions topsy turvey acrobatting out into the ocean and tossing one another into the waves drowning only slightly in order to wash the sweat from their brows coming up for air in a panic that seems worse than it actually is.

Maja Ra is radiant. Her tan breasts supple in the end of summer sun pushing back against the light as they raise themselves to heaven. Adele Catchlight is less adorned but her calm beauty feels au naturale against the serene backlight of the blue sky.

Joe kicks sand into the air as he walks back to the encampment. He shakes the water out of his hair and off his muscular back onto the girls causing them to stir as they smile up at him standing there in his blue green bathing trunks with arms outstretched taking in the sun. “What are we going to eat,” he says. “I got the munchies and the beer isn’t enough to contain them.” He dives onto Maja and rubs his sandy chin into her breasts as she laughs and wraps her arms around him pulling at and straightening his red-blonde hair. She lays back and he picks her up with one arm walking her out towards the sea her arms draped back fingers drawing a line in the sand mapping out his conquest.

To finish the story you’ll have to grab a copy for yourself. Fire. Sun. Salutation. is available now! It is a collection of 9 short stories of erotic surreal splendor. You won’t be disappointed!

An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – Fire Breather, Beach Sun

Make Poetry an Art Form

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Make Poetry an Art Form (2015)

(dedicated to the poet’s poet Bob Kaufman and the North Shore beat scene he crafted at the tip of his tongue)

Make poetry an art form
let it curve with the landscape
and bear fruit of significant change
the writer can no longer sit
solitary
behind closed doors
stuck behind the pen
let the poet stand free
let her step onto the street
and shout your refrain
at top volume
so that the people come to hear it

Make poetry an art form
let your audience be the commuters
the laymen
the blind laborers of the day
all looking for an escape
let it be the youth
the apathetic
the reality TV watchers
waiting to be awakened
let it be the hungry
the broke
the battered and beaten
all those downtrodden
who need a sense of empowerment

Make poetry an art form
break through that abstract archetype
of the writer as a silent type
let your words be heard
loud and clear
across physical barriers
and spiritual divides
get creative and raise the spirit
by stepping back
and pointing to others
the way
show them they too can speak
and I mean SPEAK!
with individuality

Make poetry an art form
live the words you read
have your movements be accents
your posture be the beat
have the body be the stanza
your form making it breathe
and be sure you do more with your voice
than just read
carry the poetry into your aura
and have it become a lifestyle
that you lead

Make poetry an art form
create a performance
in the every day
so that your friends
are lead to dream
but make sure
they take the next step
and connect
their subconscious world
to this inspired reality

Make poetry an art form
have it be the voice of change
and revolutionize this society
which has lead us
so far adrift
from the instrument of humanity
it’s past time now
that we stand upright
speak clearly to our surroundings
and carry ourselves back
to the essence
of our beingness in now

It is time
to make poetry an art form
Let the words
be the way
revolutions
(of the world)
are

fought

and

won.

Make Poetry an Art Form

An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – A Midsummer Day’s Dream

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An excerpt from my new book Fire. Sun. Salutation
Get your copy today on Amazon here:
http://www.amazon.com/Fire-Sun-Salutation-collection-transformations/dp/0692362762

from the story “A Midsummer Day’s Dream”:

The cold waves of the lake reflect softly in the snow as the sun peaks out behind several clouds roasting the leaves on the trees to turn yellow green under pressure of draught. The snow falls without too much hesitancy and as it settles it turns the white tundra into a puddle of milky resolution creating streams and rivers that navigate the patchwork of the ground until finally coming to rest at the bottom of the cerulean body named Lake Chaubunagungamauganesha. It is hot as hell and the water boils sending steam into the air creating the fog of an outdoor sauna with entire landscapes melting in front of their eyes and time coming to a standstill each breath long thought out and constituting a lifetime’s worth of memories and decidual attachment. Still the snow continues to fall and pile high covering them and their surroundings in frost-laden reminiscings looking freshly decadent while butterflies flock in the air one by one across the sky reputedly beating their wings gracefully rapidly imminently with flagrance in their small truculent hearts.

The group of three stops and admires the tree on fire in the woods. They whisper to each other.

“It’s as if it doesn’t even happen,” says Hector Salvia

To finish the story you’ll have to grab a copy for yourself. Fire. Sun. Salutation. is available now! It is a collection of 9 short stories of erotic surreal splendor. You won’t be disappointed.

An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – A Midsummer Day’s Dream

Outline of a novel

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On this icy day in February, I’m trying to piece together a novel based on my travels out west. I’ve been writing for this book since I got back at the end of December. It tries to trace the transit I took between SF and Big Sur down to LA and back up again, while examining the heart ache and subsequent growth I experienced along the way. Some of the things I write about are real, most of them are borderline fictions. In real life, this all happened within the span of a few weeks, but the moon nearly broke my spirit while I was out there, and my recovery from this fall led to a much stronger identity.

It seems like a plot line people would enjoy. Way too poetic an adventure to skip writing about it. Now to finish it.

Outline of a novel

Big Sur! What a finale!

Big Sur! What a finale! (2015) by Marshall Deerfield
I watch an astral chakra-like orb erupt from the setting sun over the ocean and I want Big Sur to offer a standing ovation. Instead it stands there humble and majestic. The fog at its shoulders adding air to its mountainous earthen body. But still dormant all the same. The fireball to its western quarters turning the rest of this paradise all shades of orange, pink, and purple with its verbose volleys of natural energy, being thrown every which way. And this mountain lies still its own diverse network of patterns, gullies, and rock beaten frequencies unchanged. You’d think this rolling back of daylight into nighttime would rattle even the thickest of wills. But no match for this mountain rushing with all its own land mass back into the sea in a giant glorious sweep of might and fury. The ocean crashing at its feet and the fog continuing to roll in over its head covering the whole body of it all while dark continues to deepen and night continues expanding forward onto the horizon giving cloak to hulk to mountain to hull and shell to sea and earth and heavens all over again once more.

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Big Sur! What a finale!

An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – American Rêvelution

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An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation
available now from Amazon and Createspace

from the story “American Rêvelution”:

Lewis standing there practicing a few chords with sun in his eyes and good soul in his heart he only hoped to catch a ride to Memphis. It never dawned on him that the ride coming his way would lead him to fulfillment beyond his wildest fantasies.

The van crept closer and the driver Jackson spotted the musician with his outstretched thumb taking good measure of the guitar the man carried with his other arm.

Jackson told the girls, “It’s time for war paint, my darlings. Fast now a new passenger awaits. We will take him to the sex caves with us and beyond. But first we must invite him into our tribe and with him continue this rêvelution further down the road.”

With this the girls grabbed at each other’s hair tying bones and seashells into the bangs while painting reds and yellows on the other’s cheeks and under the eyes a narrow blue causing the fiercest of all warmonger’s faces. The women were ready for seductive invitation. They were ready for more to go further than before.

The van rolled up and past where Lewis stood and as he raced towards the vehicle the girls readied themselves by disbanding all clothing.

Jackson Wilreich who was now shirtless, called out to the boy, “All aboard, my dear fellow. This train ride goes all the way to Oakland Bay. Ain’t got time to hang on like it’s a waiting room. Hurry now and see us go onwards to the stars and what have you.”

And with that the side door slid open and the two girls latched onto Lewis pulling him into their embrace throwing him with his guitar to the back of the van while Jackson Wilreich popped the vehicle again into high gear rolling aimlessly down the beaten road.

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Find out what happens next, grab your copy from Amazon.com or Createspace.com today!

Fire. Sun. Salutation. is available now! It is a collection of 9 short stories of erotic surreal splendor. Perfect for warming you up on a winter day.

An excerpt from Fire. Sun. Salutation. – American Rêvelution