Friday, January 20, 2017

The gods I've loved

barefeet on the soft green carpet
of the dewy glen
I preferred to the hard clay tiles
under stone split with glass
the wind spinning the blades of grass
on afternoons that fed into
the eternity of night
when voices beckoned
from the darkness
and birch columns shone
in the full moon presence
I laid in the silvery threads
suspended in the canopy tangles
and peered into the heart of the beast
a sanctuary afforded to those
abandoned ways and to
those who were willing to pay
twas a morsel of truth
plucked out from the veil
a glimpse beyond the mortal hell
that both throne and cross
vehemently sought and bought
but could never hold
as it was never theirs nor ours
nor was the beating pulse
I left in the ground
that night so many many years ago
I returned it to its owner
so I could jump from
those silvery threads in the canopy tangles
into the heart of the beast
and swim in his ocean
where I had longed to drown

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Yew or holly

a hostage I was
in the hands of the German government
I think they were holding me for ransom
couldn't have been 'cause I'm handsome
yet a descendant
of Swiss royal blood
I declared I was
as I assured my captives of their wrath
and revenge for this grave injustice
while I held a highlighter to their throats
to escape I hurled
multi-colored eggs
of stone through glass
but they were only bound up within it
and became an opaque window themselves
until I ran out and had no more to throw
and suddenly a crash
and shattered glass
the window gave way
I bound through the hole in the wall
out into the forested yard well beyond
and hurriedly searched for sanctuary
a fenced in yard
with a tunnel entry
I slid through quick
and grasped a limb of supposed yew
though something else told me holly
still some other voice gave me more intel
the German public
was of the opinion
piss was fouler than dirt
I found myself within that fenced yard
where a thin shelf of dirt rose above
and created a nook to tuck myself in
as I was told of
the status of dirt
I so tucked in and awoke

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Shall we go?

he had piranha teeth
behind his muted lips
and graying mustache
he wore so trimmed and groomed
I think he spent more
time and coinage
on that particular feature
than any one other in his presence
yet here we sat feasting
at my own humble table
upon bacteria and fungi
and rancid juice that tasted quite well
he was no one visitor
anybody every really
wanted to have in the place
he was at at my own very humble table
yet awkwardly we sat
silently chewing and
spying at the other
while we awkwardly sat silently chewing
I grimaced at the thought
he might do something else
besides sitting there and
mimicking his host at this teetering meal
constantly it ate at my soul
when he would stop or
when he would begin or
when he would suddenly catch my eye in glance
alas I would lose my chance
and fetch my hat and coat
and hold the door for my guest
as he would lead me out into the dark unknown
but his spies were fleeting
as I kept my view mostly down
to avoid that momentary snare
of his stare into the emptiness I had prepared
I asked him indirectly
and politely as I could have
if he had had his fill, that is
if he needed maybe a morsel or goblet more
I fixed my gaze to his
left hand that so firmly
grasped the silver fork
as I felt his heavy eyes peering upon my person
the weight shook my body
and sweat soaked my shirt
the burden I could bear no longer
and looked up and heard him ask, "Shall we go?"

Sunday, January 8, 2017

To forget yourself

these days and nights
the passing seasons
of the marching years
just more of the process
in forgetting yourself
for from thousands
upon millions of burning
lanterns in the shadowy cosmos
their passing and settling of
dust you wear in this world
it's a border you made
to walk away from where
you came and who you are
and yet you walked this way
out of the ocean into the desert
to see what all the fuss was about
to learn from teachers and teach
the lessons that haven't been learned
to light the lanterns not yet burnt
to open eyes that weren't
and to know that when you're ready
to hang your dusty coat on
that hook waiting in the dark closet
at the end of the hall
you will forget yourself

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Cali calls

those doses of sleep
I had to take
in them I missed your
voice calling out
deep within
my heart chased the rabbit
into its earthly realm
my head in the fog
from where your voice echoed
through the gates
over the bridge
and into the bay of your words

I missed your calling out
to me in my bed
from your world on the ocean floor
I was too busy chasing
jokers through tunnels of dirt
as my body tore through
the waves of sheets
and when I returned
when I climbed out of the mud
within in my mind
your words smoldered
on the nightstand
the beacons burning
from your world on the ocean floor

Wednesday, January 4, 2017


water can be a bitch
becoming cold enough
to take your feet
out from under ya
and lay you down
on the frozen ground
with a thud your
bones will let you
know about later

she can fume and boil
and scald your skin
at the kitchen sink
or in the bath when
all you want to do
is wash the dirt
off your hands

she can flake out
and fall in your face
so much so no one can
see where they're going
or where they've been
just to thaw and melt a little
and then freeze up again
to lay your ass out
on the frozen ground

but god help us
we need her so much
our bodies would be dust
without her grooving
through our shells
and lord knows we've
put her through
plenty of hells

she has the right to
kick us now and again
to let us know how
selfish and foolish we've been
'cause she takes a lot
of shit from us everyday
only to leave us refreshed
after she's washed it all away

Monday, January 2, 2017

Wound words

in late you went
not sooner then
a word or two dropped
onto the table
and rolled and fell
to the floor

they linger there
between the boards
and sup on tears
that fall there still

so heavy words
you said at last
the breaker of chains
the stones to
see and crash against
in icy seas

shards remain
on winter pavement
broken and glued
so cracked so thin

in late you left
the darker day
those words you spoke
a turning wheel
the unlocked front door
remains ajar

Sunday, January 1, 2017

These beasts

swinging shimmer of
burnished blade
against the fading straw
when green retreats
back into the soiled bosom
leaving gold in its wake

the swinging shimmer only
thirsts for gold
and licks its lips when
slicing through all
the gold it can while
the sun remains
trotting through the blue

the two fearsome beasts
are the wielders of this blade
they watch so patiently
and bide in vigilance
in the raptor feathers above
in anxious claws and
piercing beak they wait

the pair of fearsome beasts
revel in the numbers
that accumulate and grow
numbers are their forks,
their spoons and knives
to use to feast on mortal lives

swinging shimmer of
the clock's pendulum
it devours the seconds
then minutes, then hours
if one of these fearsome beasts
won't steal your day
then it will take your breath
these beasts of time and death

Thursday, December 29, 2016


white arch in bleaching
sun, harsh light filling
chalky void that echoes
on a vast and vacant
languishing ocean

to touch is to pull
the years of banshee
winds onto fingertips
and look at ancient
accumulation in
present fingertips

the brush off of ages
under the arch of layers
steps through time
that climb the remnant
the remains to remind
that fish once flew
through bowing grass

they were once then
what leaping deer are now
but at the arch the layers
are all the same
where human hands can
retreat in horror in
feeling the flaky scales
in tracing the dagger teeth
of mariner monstrosities
that always knew hunger

pale portal of powder stone
to pass through layers
and leave the given behind