Thursday, October 31, 2013

October 31, 2013


Pink Floyd vs. The Beatles - The Creepiest Song You've Ever Heard

Night Air Reflection
walk city streets, ride subways
costumed as commoners --
subterranean trickster consciousness,
ethereal siamese twin
to the mundane.
Shadow and substance
entwine as before
the incursive divide.
I long to tell you,
yearn so I loudly whisper,
but only if you really listen.
I cannot say these things twice.
Memories seep through,
acquire form.
Stand straight and true
as soldiers or Marines
gifting full allegiance
to any who will take that load.
There are Gods foaming in excrement,
demanding relief in sardonic
potent and deadly.
Angels and
Demons wage stochastic war;
dice from a grail
foresage trial or comfort.
Hungry Ghosts wail.
Vampires and Creatures
made of night
seek shelter before
travails of fablers
break them.
Morning Star
winks salaciously.
In wild’s kingdom
all manner of beings
Eagles soar.
Lions roar.
Whales sing.
Humans open a
veiled third eye.
The World rejoices.
Samhainic Verse

~sharing(secret)water~ EV13 


night's pages

{patchwork narrative} a flash fiction serial following the story of a child vampire, the eternal child monster working out that existence
originally featured (and still appearing) on my PostApocalypse tumblr site: 
now appearing on this Blogger spot for easy editing and viewing. 
The last entry, which is what you see on the home page, is the first “patch” of the story. Go backwards, down through the previous posts to see the whole story, or as much as you like, or some now, some later ...

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

scorpio intimacies

On the Threshold of Silence
Absorbed by rabble noise my tired voice trails unheard.
How can it matter what I say?
A fool, I record hard travel truth in written word
to scatter as if for use someday.
Realize that my eyes see uncommon visions.
My mind seeks to find unlikely decisions.
My lips may seem gripped, but that’s not done on purpose.
What I know doesn't show on my nondescript surface.
How can I explain,
entice suffice to hear,
what isn't always clear?
Notes of refrain
jumbled with pain;
I must be insane.
play with my inner ear,
keeping me guessing.
Burden or blessing?
Of course you don't care.
Just turbid notes on passing air.
Weaving through aether,
permeating atmosphere,
essence I ache to share
already everywhere.
You never heard it from me.
Valerie Plame, Valerie Plame
The very fact that we all know your name
is a crime.
So, who's doing time?
American splendor,
a pop carnavale.
The greedy get famous.
The poor rot in jail.
The glitter and star light
is doing its job:
distract and divide while
they rape, kill and rob.
Is that a pimple on my face?
Oh, I'm such a big disgrace!
I can't keep it all together as I should.
The only explanation's I'm no good.
I want too much.  I need to much.
I never learned to mind my p's and q's.
I didn't toe the line and pay my dues.
Now my opportunities
ooze beyond reach,
bleed out,
What am I even saying?
If the right people hear, surely
despair's  a treasonous crime.
And, unlike those Whitehouse lackeys
I may well end in a cell doing time.
October 23, 2007
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 cavalry,
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

Friday, October 18, 2013

a little Moon music

Moon Light Triptych
Silver bracelet of Moonlight
night prism of serene
casts lines, luminescent desire
emboldened in reflection
Masked Lady Moon sneaks
into my room,
speaks of fantastic adventure.
Dare I question her
abundant gesture?
I a masked gypsy
painted in gloom,
a taste for wry humour,
impossible promises,
resplendent terrain.
A woman insane,
taken in by the Moon.
Fair sister, illusory rock, cold, dark
so far from my daily chains.
I have no home
but clear, quiet salvation
hiding like Moonlight
unmasked in my mind.
I tell you the moon dreams of beauty.
I tell you the soul is but a butterfly,
sweet and fluttery, without the substance
of a cloud.
I tell you that this is what I adore:
You, here and now, a shower of acceptance,
telling me to tell you more.
as out, so in
Lake silent, dark
mirror to reflective Moon
complete in stillness
Wind escapes blackened maples,
catches crackling leaves
to whirl, to fall
Integral, self-contained, this world knows
mystery, bloodlines, senses unspoken,
helpless ecstasies eternity allows
for now
October 18, 2012
Passing mist veils/reveals Moon glow
as she moves through caressing clouds
trying to reach me
so far below.
How can I know
it is me she desires?
My mind is on fire,
moonstruck, some might say.
Flying along the Milky Way
fueled by moonshine.
She flashes her shadowy eye
through cloud-studded sky
and I feel fine.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

website update

night's pages

{patchwork narrative} a flash fiction serial following the story of a child vampire, the eternal child monster working out that existence

notes playing to a theme
nightly poetry posts
Emerging Visions visionary art zine
Something Sacred – metafiction
PostApocalypse blog includes original patchwork narrative flash fiction serial
Selected Works 1968-2005

Year of Prophecies as a page
Year of Prophecies as blog posts  and posts beyond the project
Samhainic Verse
beginning soon, posts about healing through dance

Seers and Seekers ten years along


Seers and Seekers: A forum to discuss and explore topics of the occult, speculative art, and philosophy broadly defined. 

"Seers and Seekers" originally occurred to me as an occult/science fiction bookstore in which patrons would discuss the ideas presented in the literature. Today we have a wealth of inspirational, philosophic/metaphysical and artistic websites to play among. I hope we can create exciting discussions relating to this wealth of ideas.
I envision this forum as a place in which to expand our consciousness, put concrete form to our grapplings with the big questions, and encourage creative thought -- a place where visionaries can feel at home.
October 17, 2003
8:52 pm EDTBoston, MA