rolling through the shadows
keep aligned against the healed
cuts
receipts to worth
this work

sunlight frond
glowing
the manicured malestrom
well heeled
The beast
feels

Rivulet shake
this naked soul
exposed
star fallen

an ambrosia
hidden in a half
turn look

I saved the lip
print succulent
pressed in pages
of a book

our diary of
emergence
a dazzle of
radius
encounter
intoxicant
in the brush
and gaze

cathedrals for sale
also palaces, castles, snake pits
and other defunct objects
of former affection

though beautiful in their day,
the weight of these monstrocities
has left the holding estates in abject ruin
due to lack of interest, brains
and tithes

STILL WATERS

Still waters running deep
passion's fire burning cold
quiet seething of the hear
cursed and forsaken
things we dare not say
and never tell
spoken only in silent litany
and unholy whispers
in a hell
of our own making

Shadows in the mind,
their gaunt spectred shapes
fit into places in the brain,
stored, as in a loft of chests and boxes,
there to rest,
until they're wanted once again,
to throw their patterns
into present conscious thoughts;
they lie there latent figures in the wings,
with many things,
the goods and chattels of a life, ignored,
until their likenesses appear
to ask them up to dance,
the dance of knowledge
learnt and understood,
or merely wake to shake in unison

Of living truth

sex was the first subject of existence
even God knew
without it there can be no business
of any kind worth a dime... …

we all make love
in the cover of darkness ..
by norms laid out by those
who indulge in broad day light,

under the covers
nay, veils of masks
religious

we all have to brave
those who are so deprave
as sermons they pass
we praise
as a child sucks
below
we all by now know...

I thought I was beyond it
grasping I tried to hold firm
as each thread passed
through my fingers

but my art held fast
pinching my arms
numbing my fingers
itching at me

awoken from nightmares
sweat rolled from temples
a hollow reed in the dark
had begun to sing

seducing me long into night
my hands bled
and spilling my blood
I made the lines ring

in the back of beyond
I found myself bloody
weeping of the black
bleeding out poems

Geepers. Creepers

Creepy, crawly, creatures
cunningly and suddenly appear
from deep ,dark corners
of Mind’s innocence
and with unholy whisperings
cacophonous
slither into a Soul
to violate and mutilate
and to paralyze with fear

The bread of love, the breath of love,
the sense of giving all,
a hand, a heart, a taking part,
in life it's steady call
for things we do and don't,
those things we understand, yet not.

What makes it all a working form
that rolls and tumbles through this place,
becomes the shape we end up in the end,
a shape that clay-like gives the content of a man,
a woman, all mankind.

in search of God......

The world has yet not realized
God is simply a surmise…
I have visited far and wide
Churches Temples Mosques and Gurudwaras
and monks resorts---monasteries
as well as
Bodh Gaya….

all over the world I have been
between ocean and seas
and wilderness in-between…

around the world the universe...
all I see
they smile at me

huge blocks of man made sculptors
they smile and ask of thee
have you come for solace?

TV opens up the world.
Each distant peak sits so,
behind generic signs for gasoline.
Vague promise feeds the heart;
each scene,
each restaurant view.

The elegance of legs crossed
leisurely. Tanned arms on elbows
leaning in
to coffee cups
like clouds held waiting,
like a sign that says
ten miles to go.

How anxious,
how complete the yearning robbery.
The glamour lads who calculate their visit.