Saturday, January 30, 2021

EARLY MORNING WINTER LOOKING GLASS

 
The snow fell like ashes
  from the ghost of a Pharaoh

Into a flattened field of urns
  lined up beneath a sheet

 An alabaster garden 
  in the act 
of growing nothing

This bedding the hollow
  of seeds which expand 
into dreams

The salt flats of memory
   the whispers of the wind
 The miracle of telling
  it all to a friend 

Outside the frosted window 
 where pain and pleasure
   flourish every day

In equilibrium upon 
  the streaming rays
  of the ever passing Sun 

Whose power did not
  diminish even while it hid
 away in the distance 

Instead with a twist 
 of its lashes thunderstruck
 
Could open the eye
  of the hurricane blizzard 
 
To stare right at you  
  like the mirror of a king

Standing in the kitchen 
 with a cup steaming upward
  into the arriving light 



NOCTURNE EULOJISM



for franz







Sincremental




Incinerational




Compostal




Educaving



Incarcerationing



Lullabaited



Sedativity



Captivaporized



Lunaseizure



Devastationary



Merchandying


Frankenchise


Mechanicolonization



Tortruism


Awariness



Conscienshutup



Vomiterrarium



Implicatered


Industracted


Freedumbfounded



Insanitedious




Suisadness





Subliminullity



Funereality




Tyranniculmination




Dominationality



Evilution



Submissionary



Nativiteaser


Divinationalist



Demonfection



Exorsystemic



Prostituition



Retribunal



Corrupturing



Empiracy



Imperialistless



World Warship



Overlard

LIFE FROM DEATH



for Jeremy


1

The darkened eagle's iris
pitched into the blue of the sky
scanning the thriving peripheries below
Reflected off the ebon shield
of its unyielding stare
the great, wild world curved
below its hooked talons


2

Gnarled and blackened oaks bulged
with tumorous, distended trunks
sunk softly sucking slowly up
the sweet spoiled meats
decomposing in the graveyard


3

In this hungry dominion
the desert hare is spared
from the red-tailed hawk
the hunter's gun has felled

Saturday, April 12, 2014

THE OLDER ONES

Our own brains are canned in bone
We rarely think of this when left alone

With three times as many appendages 
as an octopus. Memories dim as dreams 
take over the mind. From what depths 
we dared our hold on history

We crossed the gap arriving 

and gasping for air from the shore
At the cellular level aware of our 
capacity to adapt. There is no justification 
for polluting an entire planet. The reason 
for this is because neither does justice exist
Only a sort of static balance 
amid the roiling turmoil 

An  entire world exists outside our thought
We have words that represent the aspects 

of that world. Mountain, stone, water, sinew 
feather, lightning, thunder, dark
Keep these words true to your heart 

and align yourself with earth
Disregard abstractions such as good

evil, truth, justice, etc

They work to cloud the mind and further 

obfuscate our lives. Lives we are dreaming 
up on the spot so get with it and wake up
The ancient lords who swam up from 

the greatest depths. We are surrounded 
by them today just take a look around
Kings of our dominion are wearing 

our own clothes dressed to kill 

Groomed with immaculate grace pupils 

full blown in our face. Everything Is Under 
Control someone possessed of sardonic wit 
once wrote. Except for the grip we may have 
on our own lives we suppose
One thing matters in the dark 

protected by calcified helmets
Extruded upright by gravity 

and guided by the wind