Sunday, December 10, 2017

House of many lives

I found myself walking though
a mansion last night
a house of long ago that
may have never been a home
yet the photos on the walls
showed the servant lived as
an equal to his master
and as I passed through
all the many rooms
each room became bigger
than the room before
there was also much debate
of where each piece of
furniture should be placed
as though the vacated house
was left in disarray
and indeed beds were set up
in the banquet hall and
pianos left in dressing rooms
and I was no longer alone
but speaking with many
who had become my party
in walking this house
we consorted in the tour
and realized to take up residence
perhaps starting up where
someone else left off
in this house of many lives
in this house many times





Thursday, December 7, 2017

Shore leave

from wetted sands
the winds tickle the barren plain
as those adrift scratch
their heads
atop their landlocked sea-legs

for oceans have pulled their
rugs from under
the feet of those landlocked sea-legs
and drifting pauses in puzzlement
while rotting time drapes
across stones

a silent sand quickly losing
the luster of its marine wonders
bakes in the ethereal expanse
of evaporating horizons

the call of lapping waves
sings no more for the dance
of those landlocked sea-legs
and stranded in salty sand
those once adrift
shed their tears
in hope the ocean will return





Tuesday, December 5, 2017

New norm

we've bred a brood of vipers
and live within its walls
each viper at attention
ready to strike with venom
filled fangs and bite
and our air is filled with hisses
instead of friendly hellos
and lovers kisses
all of what needs defended
has all but vanished
as the vipers focus on
everything to be offended
and it is pretended
that all will be okay
if we leave our lives
to the snakes




Snow crunch

how soon the crunch
of leaves
can transfigure into
the crunch of snow
and the many hues
that were plastered
on the lawn by the
trees with their oil knife
have been wiped
away by a linseed cloth
revealing the blank
empty white
of the canvas skin
the winter kin



Thursday, November 30, 2017

Within walls

within the walls
bides eternity
where the witch
knows how to walk
through and into
the endless time
within the walls

within the walls
cries infinite
where waits the
witch in golden flesh
and darkly dress
of those shadows
within the walls

within the walls
lays serenity
where the witch
holds candle flame
and gently whispers
out your name
within the walls



Star dust

the dust has turned
to stars
in the stagnant cells of
the ceiling
the subtle brilliance goes
unseen
by those who keep their
noses
to the constant turn of
the grindstone
they only catch the eyes
of those
who turn their noses up
to work
and gaze into the micro
cosmic glow



Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Peacock twins

audacious solar peacock
arising in the morning
to fan tail feathers
across the heavens
in hues of the hearth
a brazen blazing flash
into the once sullen
serenity of the dark

he withdraws his
amber glow flowery
show and tosses his
luminous crown through
the blue celestial sea
where it's caught by
his twin waiting in
all his pretentious glory



Tuesday, November 28, 2017


The barrel

he lives in a barrel
the barrel most foul
emptied of spirits
to make you crow and to howl

the wood of the barrel
has drunk it all dry
at least that's his claim
he speaketh a lie
his liver gave notice
and told him good bye
he sits in his wasting
and wonders to himself why

"I've lived when I fancied
didn't fancy a lot
I worked for a living
and a living I sought
but happy is fleeting
its lasting all for naught
what good is working
if from it life can't be bought?"

he lives in a barrel
the barrel most foul
emptied of his spirit
no crowing, not a howl
it lays in the bottom
of a six feet deep whole
the barrel took his body
yet the spirits took his soul



Of shadows

in the shadows
of the forests
I plant my feet
in hope they
grow like roots
to travel the
underground
the dark damp
where worms
feed and rock
melts in water
and in time

in the shadows
of the crowds
I raise my arms
in hope they
grow like trees
to see above
those around
the hollow mass
where worms
feed and souls
melt in boredom
and in time