bear me oh wind
your fissured realm
show shivers in the dream mirrors

and your cauldron of tears
the river lanes of rains call
and I feel them fall

dancing in the dark
and leeching through
the cracks and dust
sweet errant memory
swept free
the sheltered craft
for a journey to take

awake thee spirit
and flesh
for I have slept
while the towers leaned
pressed with the pursuant
winds

the streamer quest

For all the wondrous peals of shared, sad, laughter
At the frivolities and serendipities of life.

For all the care and listening given non quid pro quo
On accounts tallied against future interest.

For the quiet calming silences made the more so
By the gentle ssssssssnip of grey white locks.
The hummmmmmed clip of tumbling tresses.

For the knowing without asking.
The questions and answers spoken by our eyes.
For the love of stories told and spirits called.

For these we give thanks.

Empty corridors leading to
rooms that hold the sounds
as to the heighth and breadth of a life;

blasphemy and unconditional love
has exited simultaneously
from, said mouth.

Avenues plowing through to
dens, that shelter the sights
as to the width and depth of a life;

honesty and deceptional activities
have existed at the same time,
from said brain.

it sounds insane
but, the fact still remains,
truer words, were never spoken;

The Lotus Eaters [Euthanasia]

They ate of the seed of the lotus
hues of yellow white and dawn red
scents of eastern spices
gracefully flowing
on a warm Aegean breeze
and into the bliss of forgetfulness
they fell
lost to this world’s dreaming
no thoughts of a Heaven
no fears of a hell
and from a distance
I saw their wanderings
these eaters of the lotus seed
as each began to fade
into a sleep strange
and still
never to wake again.

Longo-Geremia