Posted by admin on January 21, 2012
A principle dictating impossibility
For the mouse who builds her house
In the upturned fields
Of God’s creation.
The fog that blinds the treachery
Planned for me by my own heart
Beneath golden dreams
Of temptation.
A pen or pixel – keystroke beneath
Glaring LED – drops hopes
Hurriedly for tomorrow
Of absolution.
The colored page steady time reveals
Is blank for another long hour
That brings no assurance
Of resolution.
Another power comes – not lightly –
To shed brilliant heat
On the crumbled ashes
Of dejection.
A voice whispers, a call pleasantly
Promises peace; I hear
Soft sweet songs – promises
Of inspiration.
Posted by admin on April 18, 2011
Thoughts of drunkenness frighten me
Just as shadows in dark rooms might.
Imperceptible enemies
Hide dully in the empty night.
If they should come seize upon me
Should I not simply cease to be?
I require neither good or right.
Life is easily cast aside.
But without me I am nothing,
Me, I will never relinquish.
Posted by admin on April 2, 2011
A piece of my soul trickles out in words;
A piece of my heart-glowing images
Rolls out steadily to eyes and tongues.
Are these, my hopes, only strange mirages?
Not just a thought, not just a weary wish,
But a portion of essence fall, draining
From inside out to divine consciousness.
Desire of will on Another raining.
Not to compel, not to hurt, push or drive,
These storied wants call outward to be heard
By, for and through all who are alive.
Is such rash, full egotism absurd?
A piece of my mind, not unkind dribbles
Like pudding on a paper plate, waiting
For a child to choose the thought and nibble.
By hearing, by thinking, that child changes.
Be good; be kind; find peace; give love; rewind
The awkward moments that led your soft ear
To this gentle page’s useless, baseless lines.
Answers to deep mysteries wait elsewhere.
The stifled voice that calls incessantly
Seeks change but lacks potency to create
Better; it whispers warmly, fervently.
The hearers do not listen; they berate.
In an hour will these lines matter?
Can one human voice begin to alter
The threads of humanity’s set pattern?
Posted by admin on October 2, 2009
My pen and soul
as I sit are open
to the world and you.
They say I should not be so.
People are wrong.
My pen has never failed.
It will not now. It takes
my mind to you.
I go home, or come back.
You are nowhere.
My pen will fill the pit.
But even the words can not
Replenish what is gone. You
are gone, but I am not alone.
I will go on.
My pen goes on.
It will guide me, it always
has. When next I see you
my pen too will have left.
We will be one.
Posted by admin on September 25, 2009
sparse words on bare
lines
seem a fraud
to the quick machinations of the mind
a skeleton
whose bones curl
at the smell of heavily versed
morality
but dead words
often hit the blunt truth
behind many thought’s thick
flesh
Posted by admin on September 18, 2009
Self Deconstruct in
Ten
Nine
Eight…
Stop!
Turn left
At the light
Turn right
Down the street
Lights burn
Incense
Smells bad
Boys
Climb trees.
Stop!
don’t change the subject.
There’s a pattern to this.
Shut up.
I said stop!
Go!
Signifier
Left
Cycle
Black
Formal
White
Circle
Right
Signified
Stop!
Endless
Endless
Endless
Endless
What is?
