Daily Archives: April 8, 2022


No child with scruples
says enough is enough
just as a litel year is no year
my father once said “eat by ear”
but eating by ear is very different
from reading and dying.

First of all, I am not the god
of food and wine but some poor mortal
not at home here with my gender and race.

i, am myself, but have no god.
— this doesn’t seem wrong to you, does it?

Not only wrong, but ignorant.
And how can you think that I am wrong in
pretending to know what I know?
—of course!

But inside your head you think you have
matched up to your heart ~! Then when
you’re dead — then again, we are
of one mind.

Dear heart, I only wish I had not made
you think so but were I to hide your eye,
and not allow you to get a glimpse
of what happens when to be free
you think of yourself as one who fears
—that makes it easier.

I have only one eye left and am ready to die
bravely accepting the silence which says

“i’m blind, blind, blind!”

God, have all these hands, all these faces,
all these mouths, noses, eyes, eyes, eyes?
How many of these goeth on
before a dream collapses?

Why is it so hard to believe that the god is silent

[Oh the Omnipresent One!
I’m not about to give up
all the unsolicited advice
I’ve been receiving!]

Inside these dancing, wonderous bleeding eyes!

A one-night Stand with Life!

:: 04.07.2022 ::

[‘Goeth: archaic third person singular present of go’]


WE speak to the shadows of broken teeth
dealing cards in meditation never knowing respect.

What geometry of chance sometimes violent outcome
Wishing for gold.

Instead picking  up dirt like a dead King buried
with his weapons of War.

How life shapes our life How desperate moments
shackle our heart inside a broken bleeding heart.

Buried inside moving clouds how souls watch love ~~
upon these fields so old as a white horse grazes
in a meadow outside your kitchen window — gold.

How afraid i am that there may be a moment when I fail
you my friend. 

:: 04.07.2022 ::


We poets do not write for recognition.

We write for revelation.

:: 04.07.2022


I had a cockatiel.

She kept flying, circling
her cage and would beat
her wings cackling as she fell;
the cage door opening ~~~~~~
I couldn’t stand watching.

I was like a terrible parent
caged in my own unhappiness.

And the love I had tore me in two,
another love had taken my soul away.

I am empty.
I am empty.

And like my cockatiel
I am hungry for love.

I sit listening to a crow
cawing, at peace with the world.

:: 04.07.2022 ::


What, sir, what?
He looked at my face.

“I think your name is Viola!”
He exclaimed, waving his hand.

He acted quite surprised,
when the Queen’s Viola herself
crushed into him, almost, as she said,

“My dear man, it is here, quite naturally,
that we keep our mysteries. And to keep mysteries
and to give secrets…I did you the whole
world over—in no time while you slept,
when, instead, I lay down beside you
to keep you company, quieter than the others.

You slept, and when you awoke, again I went to sleep.
When you awoke again, I again visited your bedside.
And then it was too much: my legs were too tired,
my form too pliant, my reveries too pregnant
with yearning, too exhausted by dreams to make
much of these close, fumbling tokens:
my sacred braid.

After that, you were conscious:
I helped you dress, and then—
you carried me off to the balcony,
and here we are, tonight,
where I took my first great pleasure:
I acted, rather than spoke;
I play, rather than set to music.”

THEN, magically, heavenly, Viola is able to wield her
musical instruments to render the fallen body of
a trumpe, a siren of ancient seas. As though, the title
of manuscript like the benediction, ‘Ubi Stancendo’
cannot be bought with gold, like a Talmudic scholar
who has escape from Heaven to Hell.

That was the first date.

: 10:35 PM 4/7/202210:35 ::


THE Sun reborn and divine
The Dragon Of Light and Shade
The World awoke ~
You Hear Ravens Fly
It’s Morning
The Light wins the night
The Great Work is done
Back from the darkness

To look at the lights
I’m Waiting for the Angels Of Elysium
Waiting For the Eastern glow
Oh dance in the dark of night
Sing to the Morning Light
The Mornin’ Light!
My will is to hear you sing.

Meaningful snowfall, a Lifetime
Of broken dreams, selfish leaders,
Left wing leaks, lies and fake news,
Dishonesty, and The Destruction of the Soul
– Outrageous // double standards, the Elite
Vs. You.

So we dance in a darkened night.

:: 04.07.2022 ::