Tuesday, July 12, 2016


silencing, the
slow dance passing
in and out of
waking dawn and
dying eve

silencing, when
colors full in bloom
wilt and fade
into ages yellowed
and grey

silencing, once
booming expressive
voices screech to
halting speechless
pondering sighs

silencing, this
choking floundering
stumble from
moment to memory
to pause

silencing, in
cementing fluidity
of April rains
for still December
glaring glass

silencing, when
all those silly garbs
are shed and
left in windy fields
and winding lanes...

the unseen remains

Friday, July 8, 2016

Of sun and moon

the sun is a cad
licking anyone he can
and releases in
earthly combustion
gotta light, he does
making it burn so good

the sun is a bore
so the world ripped
her face off
and drowned in
the dark ocean waves

blanket of currents
gently rocked her sleep
in the lullaby of ages
in whispers so cold
in words of nothing

as the boy dreams
of bloody revelry
on the nightly whims
in fear and delight
so smooth the moon
beams caress and kiss

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Sanota's children

great mother mystery
your children are blind
they have no memory
of their days in the sun

great mother mystery
you've eaten their eyes
they play in the darkness
until their living is done

we whisper Sanota
your lovely name on our lips
it escapes those who think
they know you better, yet

great mother mystery
your children are deaf
they lack the listening
to hear behind the truth

great mother mystery
you've tasted their ears
they've been fed everything
and are too full for proof

we invoke Sanota
your sweet name on our tongues
it escapes the logical not
fathoming chances, yet

great mother mystery
your children are mute
they choose to choke on
their words and their spit

great mother mystery
you've sewed up their mouths
they serve in their silence
in sties of ignorance and shit

Friday, June 24, 2016

Dark centered sons

those late days of June
dry faces spackled with heat
creaking the whistling
whirling beat down fins
pumps the wet to the cracks
in the shade of this shape
rampant through the sifting
sand that ebbs and flows
across the silver sea of sage

those top heavy sons
in pride and boasting youth
sons of the southern wind
ablaze in those simmer days
they peer through verde collars
and tempt their calling beaus
in dapper velvet fashion
sweet sips their song
deep within their furry chest

those dark centered sons
sticky in sappy sweat
as tiny feet tickle their limbs
sweet sustenance this sweet
this green sun laden flesh
they writhe in the tempests
they batter and trash in their
saturated orgies with the sky
and burn in August drought

Monday, June 20, 2016

The list is lost

the list is lost
of all hoping for naught
all dreadful tears
all nightmare brand fears
of all hours waking
moments spent faking
all lustful ambitions
release of inhibitions

the reaper has gone
all fields lay long
no more seed to sow
no more roots will grow
all winds hush their words
songs cease in the birds
the earth stops the turn
both to freeze and to burn

the sky shuts its eyes
blind to the other skies
all of them peering in the dark
all of them bright and stark
some of them still aglow
most of them burnt out long ago
in the deep they glisten
their light merely fiction

this space stained with stones
a listless floating bed of bones
when all is returned
all bridges are burned
all recedes into itself
back to the nucleus of the cell
into the chaos and unknown
where the tiny seed was sown

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Beyond the crevice

crevice, cracked stone
the earth pulling up its
skirt to lure wanderers
into its unknown depths

shadow hugs tightly
the rocky innards of
hollowed chamber, of
time-eaten space

room meager and low
unless fungus would
shrink a body to vermin
size, a then be castle

in that smaller stature
one would have the key
to the tiny door hidden
at the back of the space

a darker shadow awaits
just beyond that hatch
pouring further into stone
into the lost and suppressed

slithers the craggy tunnel
where serpentine jolts had
hewn their cryptic trails
during primeval wanderings

they, the squids of soil
with their timeless striking
tentacle reach, have left
this path, this beaten course

which turns to take to
trick what's lost, what's
left in the deep, dank,
dismal dark abode of these

and heat and cold swirl
into each passage, after
every twist the path lays
in front of searching souls

and toes are eager to recede
for relation of a corpse state
sinks in suddenly, yet pursuit
whips the feet further on

darkness lightens to green
phosphorescent glow, a dream
tucked within a nightmare or
what else dwells in this hell

moist minerals merge with
stark life of fungi fire light
an eerie calm in the heart
of suspense and silent secrets

relief, be it brief, in glowing
walls, 'til dismal light exposes
movement just out of sight
beyond the reach of green

further down another way
past clusters of the fungus
reflections blink not once,
nor twice, but many are they

pulse echoes in the ears
in the muffled corridors of
forgotten silence, breath
halts, clutching the instant

movement shatters the ease
of the minute light, surge of
despair strikes in the rush of
shrieks and blinking reflections

Thursday, June 2, 2016


what you've burned
and surrendered to the
flames licking the night

soot for shadows left
on dusty roads, the grid
laid over a barren land

the earth only bearing
those who can bear most
anything or anyone or...

what you've burned
in the hordes that march
across the grass and stone

smoke for held breaths
in deflated dreams, rising
to contaminate the infinite dark

a taciturn sky blankly
gazing on tattered fires of
the past or present or...

what you've burned
with words and looks
with dormant action

allowing it to feed
on what's left, those
remnants of the cold

bones and flesh bleached
by the sun and time to
feed the old or new or...


that piece of paper
I've scribbled on
I've folded
I've creased
I've erased

that paper is wrinkled
that paper is torn
it is stained with skin
oil and coffee drops
and the ink has bled
and pooled and dried

that piece of paper
I've used up
I've lost
I've rediscovered
I've endured

the paper is aged
the paper is yellowed
it is stained with sins
and waking nightmares
and the words have smudged
and darkened and faded

Monday, May 23, 2016

Life is loss

life is loss
loss of yesterday with its
childhood and youth
loss of evenings drowned in 
gin and vermouth
loss of weight from
the sickly wasting away
loss of warmth and glow
as night consumes day
loss of those both long ago
and those a moment before
loss of pain we welcome
and the joy we choose to ignore
loss of colored canvases
that fade and wither to gray
loss of sparks of interest
and desires once craved

life is loss
loss of skin cells, electrons
and other particles
loss of hopes and dreams
and other carnivals
loss of shirt and house
and of skin and bone
loss of the surrounding 
world that once was known
loss of perceptions that
keep eyes from seeing
loss of sense of self and
definition of being
loss of endless skies
with their soaring birds
loss of breath and air
and whispers and words

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

What may be

sun shines
blue background
now and then breeze
prancing through the air
shiny cottonwood leaves
shutter, shake and flash
bird bending bough
flies away

float of fluff
soaring seed silks
drifting on a breeze
away from shiny leaves
down from heaven heights
down from tree crown
floating low