Hulena's song

a golden crown
hers melts all others
with softest touch
the mother of mothers
and pierces the dark
knowing each heart
Queen Hulena shines

she flows through trees
and comforts the cold
her altar the hearth
where wisdom is told
and pierces the dark
knowing each heart
Queen Hulena reigns

her hair is afire
her heart is the heat
her hands to inspire
ignorance to defeat
and pierces the dark
knowing each heart
Queen Hulena calls

The grassy sea

are they demons
that drag me into the grassy sea
where remnants of vivid silks
and velvet are strewn
across the blades
the victims of the tempest breeze
that bleed out in the green
of earth and blue of sky

are they demons
the scents that lure
one into oblivion and memory
of life with wings
of golden dust
the nectar lust
sunrise glory fading into
the fields for ravenous feasts
at least of these
a sip, a drip on parched lips
that these demons
pour from their glamour cups

and their laughter resounds
in the calling lark and
humming bee
when their well is spent
and my despair has been
bought in full
yet I'm in their debt
for my thirst knows no end
in the grassy sea
they drag me to

Remembering Romanovs

how we're drowning in dribble

the babble has boiled over

yet no one is minding the stove

and minding without question

is insanity

when it comes to humanity

but I digress

in this address he vomited 

as our Nero does again

and again to the deflection

of those elected 

until instead one of their own

he sets his ravenous insults upon

they might have mind to portray

a scene for Julius to their pleasure

and sharpen their blades

for good measure

yet meanwhile we are

drowning in the dribble

waiting, but not much longer

for a dog will always shake

the water from its back

even if it happens 

to be orange juice

and fling those drops

to the dark edges of the cosmos

Hands to feet

these weathered hands
can't release their wear
each crease of skin
each scar of wound
each mole
each age spot
they form constellations
recounting this life
held in these hands

these battled bones
can't hold onto
what was never theirs
they must rattle
in the constant wind
play a chime
high in the tree
they were hung in long ago

these worn out feet
can't find their path
each turn they've made
only to find a dead end
and they continue on
to the end of the circle
and to wherever
dead may be

Fireflies

how we've become
the fireflies
when the sun has sunk
past the horizon
to leave a blank
black canvas
for all of our lights
to shine against
all with our own
blip of phosphorescence
of existence
the glimmer
of glamour
in that single second
of light in the dark
the excitement
enchantment
hope and awe
when all these
momentary
here I am's
sparkle in the
nothingness of night
each a star
whose light faded
well before life
began for us

Blank

simple thoughts

darts thrown with a chance

to pierce some inspiration

but what can grow

when the trees are

in a constant fall

the earth tugs too much

and water within

the veins and veins of cells

weigh just too damn much

simple thoughts

are flightless birds these days

perhaps frozen at

one of the poles

or scorched in savanna

either one is appropriate

for this death too near

yet still waiting in the wings

Lawrence

in dreams I've found

if you state the town

you happen to be in

the locals will laugh

seems to be a ludicrous

idea to dare mention

the locale your located in

so I chose to tell these

denizens in their hyena

states that if it was so

laughable to state their

home's name that I

would call them all by

some other name than

what they go by

the first was Chip, and

then a Ted and Sky

until at last a Bud rang

out from my mouth

they asked me what

made me think of that

name of all names

I shouted pot and that

was even more laughable

than mentioning this

town I happened to

spend my night's sleep in

Sum

the float of fragments

the boundaries within borders

the severed

the dislocated

the lost

time gnashes at the whole

to erode the stone into sand

and cast the grains into 

the deep beyond the sky

our broken bodies are laid

into earth to be crushed by its appetite

and disassemble into the remains of the soil

we leave bits of ourselves with that time

and this event

and that person who we never knew

and become the stones becoming sand

surrendering ourselves to the inevitable

of never remaining wholly as is

those pieces we were

those pieces we remain

as they become more than we are

as they become the sum of our selves

The zone creep

not that it needs to be mentioned

but it's not looking good

especially when no one

seems to be able to agree

or perhaps so eager to ignore

the truth staring us in the face

all I know is there's certain

plants that will grow where I live

that weren't able to

when I first started gardening

those twenty some years ago

regardless of media battles

of who reports which story

to support whichever agenda

I know that winters have warmed

overlooking those with interests

to back the use of certain industries

and their use of alternative facts

I know that rainfall has changed

its paths and frequencies and forms

we've always lived on a ticking bomb

this world spinning out of control

and life has always been a risk

existence a gamble with each and

every choice we choose

but choices are running out

as the ticking hits the accelerator

and hopefully we can find peace

with what we've done and

what we continue to do

Brain chains

alas, listing in lost lust

the sink is shipping

the wane is braining

the drain is bathing

into nothingness and

altogether lucid confusion

what is manifested

from too little vigor

over too many days

is a meager vittle

for a ravenous life

and knowing of

not being able to

recall this past week

are the chains

the brain drags

well into the grave