I am no silent reader,
for I can hear no sound

In the cold dispassionate voyage
where lips are stilled and words abound

That are ground down to a grist
for one that mills about the page

Waiting for music to somehow rise
when it’s otherwise engaged

Unmelodious and misbegotten
in the silent scanning mind

Realize then, what you’ve forgotten
how you were told, to erase the lines

Now, hear the music in all that’s spoken
not barked on barren, broken ground

the sun is risen again
like how alexandrus set Venus his altar
and fatling illumined for Menelaus , Minerva

... and Saturn's eldest daughter, spake of Mycenae
for ferns over the hills of a Shepherds palms
over summits in the wasted wake of mariners
in requite hetacombs of a winged archers frond
that salt the throng tassels of the circled sky
before the sleeping whisks of the waxing knight
as nectar in the cup of some great immortals
meteor and pyres of the grounded ox horn

STICKS AND STONES

Words are deadly weapons
with a power of their own
meant to kill the spirit
and tear into the soul...
an insidious poison frozen
in time and space
a wound that bleeds again
with each memory
and each new cruelty
that violates the sense of Self
and the essence that defines
our uniqueness and betrays
our vulnerability

candy floss
the glitter gloss
like poison in its glass
she swallows the pills
feels her soul gasp
shudders her heart
feelings life pass
she walks her runway
green eyes mean
she drives too fast
in her lovers machine
Dolce Gabbana
and internet love
in the blackness of
ravens
she gives like a Dove

..