the peaks have fallen to
the underworld of the
dying bones crawl from
the fire to greet the
smiling clowns of
vice and the music
falls from the trees
to the roots of the
children who run from
the ponies of pale
mothers
Poetry
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {iii}
the sullen forest of
despair calls my god
given name of recklessness
the system of service and
loyalty does not exist any
way break my heart and
leave me dead sweat
and blood mixes with
sugar drips to the
eyes of my virgin so
i stand on the cold
ground for you alone
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {ii}
once you touched my face
in blessing set me free
to fly and tell my soul
to come to you lost and
frightened in the cage of
the walls of sorrow
she cannot hear me as
i fly by her house of
blue thunder and the rain
melts my body to the
ground
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {i}
stumbling across your
river you catch me
in the shores of your
gentle heart and i weep
mercy does not dawn for
my heart walking across
the earth like a gypsy
flees the holy spirit for
her sins calm is a blessing
that i did not inherit
the gods have no such
plans for me
layman optics
ever
seen the eye
of a dead anything?
the jelly hardens
and one can see
the depths of hell.
where i haunt, i see those
eyes everyday.
they come in blue,
grey, green, hazel; but the brown
ones are most tragic.
a Psalm redux
it’s
come to pass
that a heart has exploded,
and for the sake of the hypocrite
sloppily taped back together again.
as though the trees no longer care
i look through the steps we took
one time and then two. brutal are your ways
delivered with most foreign warmth.
how can a Buddhist kill?
how can a Christian save?
someone say something
of meaning and strength.
but i am too of tree and
not clay. i hang there in the dry
woodsy field swaying from the
trunk. uprooted and weak.
did you meet Eve or Adam
at least? God cast a spell
and put me to sleep.
give me an ally someone i can see…
Shiwana
the canyons are deep
beyond shallow is the sky
souls climb to heaven
Haiku for Leonard
hallelujah love
praising life in every song
flown to Shamayim
maafa
so here you are, night.
i asked for you in anger;
i cursed your name, called you God damned.
i thought that i could shoot your blackness in the veins,
to seize the pain in the soul.
in my selfishness i forgot,
i forgot that the sorrow’s spoon is too big
to boil you down.
oh soothing night,
how your wicked hands do prick me
with the needles of our thoughts,
so dirty and despondent.
i beg, i kneel and writhe away,
but he cannot hear
an atheist to our sleepy weakling
of a love.
whispers and tiredness
travels through us
you are here my dreary night
our grave our hole our life.
eulogy
now that the death has come
and allowed me to live
without breathe in a realm
of incertitude
waiting in the radioactive
hallways for adults in
suits of meat and bone
with fire in their bullet
the demons are not real
and never were here
on this earth but the mountain
and the thunder and the darkness
and the cries and the gamble
and the dice and the skull
the switchblades of destiny
and the forsakenness continues
until the sky is clear
behold a dove does not return
modern time is old
and i of decrepit filth
left by wood jet engines
and a grace that is unfathomable
to the tiny soul piece of spit
in the ground
words less spoken 