Sunday, November 22, 2009

on the occasion of my second Saturn return


If I could turn again
If I could turn
If I could
If I

Flying too high
confused, losing oxygen's fire
infused with thrilling desire
Touch me
Don't take me down

You, who never knew me
grasping at space where
I may have lain
Laugh to my face
exploding in pain
while you writhe
O', that's no way to survive
I'll encase you in goo that
allows you to see me inside intricate mind
Each molecule of remorse
creeping out of your eyes
replace with sweet water
of life, grace effervescing.
I want you to thrive
be better than
still life man.

Rocky mires face all who
walk this ridge
Patience, take time to build up
bridges, irrigation ditches,
inch by plodding inch, plotting
fields of grain, barrels for rain,
roofs, walls, windowpanes,
chimneys for warm hearths below.
Flowing rivers reveal lines for exploration,
mining ores,
mine and yours,
that element missing from accounting calculations,
Earth and her hordes, minions endemic to every
Wherever did you hear that enmity
would take you anywhere but here?
Dear, darling man, so wrapped up in
some plan you think you've sussed;
giving up your birthright and your trust
without second opinion;
believing written history makes mystery clear.
How can I find a way to make you hear?
Why should I any longer care?
Off am I, breathing higher air.
No need to share with those who
daren't climb.
Sublimity, subliminally inclined --
nothing more to reach for.
No need to reach out.

If there is a you, and you choose,
touch me.
Don't take me down.

November 22, 2009

Saturday, November 21, 2009


Breaking bred

Ravenous beast
born from boiling seas
rampaging barely beneath,
breaking surface
exhaling snarling flame
riotous burning blame
tidal waves that never quench
the fire
All of desire pierces through
poisonous darts
We can't help you nor allow
your hearts to heal
not while we steal your ire
to fatten our nests
Believe you are blessed
Believe you are doing your best
to be as Creation demands
Believe you are worthless
beyond condemnation
unless you are taking the stand
prescribed and admired
If you aspire to anything higher
you must carry the brand
on your forehead or hand
must be willing to kill
in the name of loyalty
to fulfill the prophecy
to feed the Beast

November 19, 2009

Friday, November 13, 2009

slap the beat Friday the 13

There's always steel-eyed suspicion. Especially when yer poor, automatically suspect, haven't got the fashion or manners expected. Though there's plenty of blame to go around, it gets stuck right here.
Stuff happens everywhere. Those involved get special prayers, funds raised in school fairs, helping hands clapped across their back. Unless they live across the sacred track, have papers that don't quite pass inspection.
Of course, we get what we deserve. If we live beyond the pale, whatever be our tale, it's up to us to serve in silent awe. Our cross to bear, because we're born impure. It's lovely that your source can be so sure. Insurrection
can't be condoned, nor endured. Suffer in contrition for the condition of failed dreams, unseemly scraping by. 'Tis not I who makes these rules. Thus it's ever been, will be, until we choose to honor freedom,
admit reality into negotiations for solutions, until we can agree on this experiment's conclusion. The power of fusion surpasses the power of dissolution.


Monday, November 9, 2009

Persephone's breakthrough

Persephone's Breakthrough

This is where the idea is born.

soft green meadows gently disappearing into fall
sounds of dying, scent of woodfire and candlelight
no separation between what is becoming
accept and be revealed

summer's wild adventures
spring was a torrent of clarity, precious rain,
Earth coarse, ready for fecund pleasure
Queen of night in daylight's realm
obsessed in flowering
roses and daffodils
valleys and nubile hills
all is vanity and laughing vice
"But, Mother, I'm not a nice girl.
I'm a creature of the breeze; secure in shadow;
alive in the cutting edge of the storm."
Myth in revision
standing at the back of the playground
learning theater, tucking metaphors
through interstices of sense and dream
In spring, kicking stones along sandy riverbeds
reading the classics
expecting valor, glory, dramatic lines

Summer deceives
the stink of rot where flowers bloom
ancient feuds, retaliations, rage
tyrannosaurus feeding future waste,
absorbing a zeitgeist of want, of predation

within greed swollen seed infectious fear
search for further truth
mythology frustrates, curls back on its own ash
burn with hazy summer wine and dance
feet connecting dust to sky -- but only in designated
spheres, with designated peers, self-selected inhibitions
sweat out poison into the ground; now, eat the bounty
midsummer farce, far from clear, far from sunrise,
counting out the chimes as if time were treasure
silly summer madness as if what matters
is so circumscribed, so predictable

Early autumn firelight
reminiscent of witch hunts, ghosts of calvary,
dire warnings and endless hide and strike
the game, the funhouse, turns deadly
sanctuary calls, demanding sacrifice
the noble phoenix fed on frankenseed
can not rise

skies descend, dark mirroring
smell the woodsmoke, intoxicating, soft and sweet
masks the taste of bitter bile, secret vomiting
starving despite harvest's gay array of treats
faded, nearly blind, falling in and out of
shamanic fever, primeval native dancers beyond sight,
ripple of tribal beat at the periphery
ecstatic vision dark/light/agony and brilliant breaks
starbright constellations

Traversing worlds
seasons, years, moments of clarity
no need to travel, to invent boundaries
dance of the highlands warmth and sustenance
makes whole

October 23, 2009