Still under construction; poems subject to revision.
No poem here may be used or reproduced without permission from the author, except for personal, non-commercial use and only if properly credited.
Author may be contacted at Celebrate_life4ever@hotmail.com
~Windows to nowhere
it doesn’t matter if winter is cold
people keep warm burning blankets,
coats and
scarves
did I burn you
to ward off the chill of loneliness, or
perhaps you tired of waiting for bells and trumpets
tired of my
silent fingers and wordless lips
Words are so deceptive like magicians and politicians
I let my actions stand alone
The way a gardener waters flowers
But
you mistook me for a
mime in a park, savoring the perfume of an absent rose
you left, closing the door of my heart, opening the windows of my soul
I can only look in on quiet oblivion; your reflection is gone from my eyes
So, like my home, my soul is void
only dirty laundry and sins to greet me
my soul is a used rubber filled with
putrefying tender moments, on its way to its final resting place
so at home in a wasteland of rotted miracles
~ Chastity of the Moon
Artemis waxing full, white
her impeccable chastity dominating
the wild impulses of beasts
but still
audacious man set foot
on the stainless moon
just to brag of his conquest
his footprint left
like a child come in from playing in the mud
Machismo suitors raced
like sperm
to that silent floating orb
impregnating it with
their future, where
nothing is sacred
virginal goddesses impaled by mortal men
cold brass chiseled in – flag poles with false-victory banners
announcing their sick delusions
Artemis waxing bright, white
hot
with rage raising
the tides against seamen
the full moon’s maddening stare, turning
bitch against master
devouring his ignorance with
both love and fang
howling that
she has avenged her mistres
~Thief in the Night ~
Write your pretty words
Crafted in the mold of your aspirations
But
you will never again be a poet to me
you are a poser, posing
as one that is free, but
you are bound
to the cross of your lord, bound
not by Pontius Pilot, but
you are crucified by Christ
you know not what you do, so
you do what an old dusty book tells you to
a book that says
there is no room in paradise
for the true love I gave to you, so
I wander the wastelands,
around that sterile ivory citadel
erasing shadows
with the living light of my mind and
making the briars bloom
your palace is lit with night-lights, memories
of a burning bush
that was burnt to ashes long ago
do you think it is one’s face
that is made in the image of God?
you’ve forsaken the heart that God has given you
so how can you know God’s mysterious ways?
I would steal you away, but
you live with so many night-lights,
so you shall not see my shadow in the night
~Trees are soil~
Dark, brown, cool, damp, moldy, rich, worm-churned
Soil
Explored, probed, penetrated by
Roots
Seeking out, quenching thirst, slow poker-faced hunger
Breaking down, slurping up, drinking deeply
Coffee with no sugar or cream
That earthiness rearranged
Reordered, repurposed, by intent-less strands of atoms
Microscopic spirals, helix, curling, unfurling
Expanding, contracting
Destroying and compacting like stars
Pressing that earthiness together
Molding it, unfolding it
Into leaves, flowers and bark
Earth spun into golden fruits and flowers
On an invisible loom
