Monthly Archives: October 2022

Red as Blood and Wool of Wail

The wound becomes inward like the pink moon
after a little rain. It glows and then becomes
red as the blood and the wool of the wail
dangling white like a sheep in the wind.

And this thorn that now curves in your breast;
you will not bring to the garden
nor to the throned light.
It lies at your breast
as a bone of some lost horse.

It will not bring Light to the growing mooring-post.
Nor will it exalt in any way the twining winds that move
in the night.

:: 10.31.2022 ::

i Prefer Pain to Death

I prefer pain to death even in deep regret!
Over frozen feelings that feel summer’s breath.
Do i, yes i do. I love and hate kissed me |
we wept in a small closet upon the second floor
of the house i was born. Oh, love! Oh hate!
How to feel different. When my tears fall
upon the wooden floor of my room.

Dear, love. How I never knew you.

Fearing lost from love. Never fearing Death.
I embrace the cold fingers of lost wishing.
The one who never came — false ones did.
And buried me deep. Within my wishes of
tears and dead hope.



There are darknesses in life and there are lights
and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.

You are an example to all of us who love you.

He wished to kiss me again, and I resisted it this time,
but in the back of my mind it seemed to me that he had
almost been in despair.

You don’t hear or see somebody talking in this way unless
something terrible has happened to them.

I told him I was there. The man he wanted. I wanted him.
And then, feeling ashamed, I hugged him.

Now he was getting the message: I loved him!

That’s the last thing he needed: to feel loved, then to realize
it, then to die!

Suddenly I didn’t feel tired anymore, and we went on our way.
Him unto dirt and me into the world naked.

The next days I was determined to get some news from him, any news,
by his ghost but there was nothing.

As such I expired my body by blade. Bleed. And became his
as he was mine and I was his.

:: 10.29.2022 ::

A Very Private Conversation Between Death & Art

[Cosmos] Does the idea of death afflict you?  Does it, coward?

[Humanity] No-no it does not!

[Cosmos] This prospect is inevitability.

And watch:  all the skies are chrysanthemums 

and the stars are little fish .  Dreaming wishing

to awaken you wished to die many times over, but now 

it is no matter — all violent are skies of your

heart turned red to purple.

[Humanity] To  die requires more than living.

[Cosmos] Then begin at the beginning and release the colors

of your art.  It is the beginning!

The weaker artist will say and ask:

“That’s why I asked you, because you are the only person I can ask

without scaring you away. If you can do it, I will give you all 

the money I have and say I will do it myself.”

[Cosmos]  Then you shall never create but reproduce.

[Humanity]  This thing must be arrested;  that is why I am asking you.


:: 10.29.2022 ::

Mantra of an Artist


:: 10.29.2022 ::

We The Birds You Always Charm Atop Lookouts

WE are the trees that never change
We are the rivers and creeks that always flow
in our hour

We are the crown of the white chrysanthemum
and the brilliance of the sky
and the shadow that crept under my window
and how can the memory of those moments ever be wasted?

Without any help from you there is nothing here
can I write.

If a bee breaks the buzzing silence
the silence itself will roar with its own size.

After the waiting of man
the forest refuses to wait

Who would have thought the forest could be waiting
for longer?

No longer long in the curves of the canopy of its green.

What must the saw-whet owl in the felled tree
swoop to listen in the long grass
Who would have thought the air would be so full of bee and dusk?

No human in the forest lives alone
only forest and meadow, and me.

No man in the forest gives life.
No man in the forest gives and takes.
No man in the forest fights the trees.
No man in the forest tears to see
so the forest goes.

And trailed roots leave their soiled path.

:: 10.27.2022 ::

Eros! Do Not Flee from Me!

MY adventure began no less than upon this chilling night when homes of many lower their shades and kill the light.
As sullen souls lay down for bed and fall into dreams some common sense was telling me I ought to follow; but my heart stood firm and I – in place of fear!

While conviction (that solid shiny compass) melted color-pale and heavy fright that night my plan was nothing
more than this: to find the house of EROS to cure my heart of alder blight! After Chaos, Gaia, and Tartarus he
was born but for I — as I for him this night, my ambition over fear.

EROS, the God of Love and sexuality could show the path for enduring love of my bride to be … my writ of right!
Nothing more to keep me still so I fled into the frozen hills upon a whirlwind. Yes, me the mere mortal like EROS I sped
beating glittering golden wings upon my hidden fear.

Heavy a burden of knowing what must be, that fate of me. As my beast passed through the mist and soared in height she
bravely carried on across barren wasteland and icy bog as sad and frozen waters gravely sang to me, “CHAOS …” and
my eyes were slightly hidden – Monmouth and fear.

And it seemed to me that humanity might have just begun as we moved by wood and sullen hill surging forth in might.
Oh! Pity us as EROS must feel the greater that his bride was no less than CHAOS!

Soon I came upon a chasm which has no name but keeps a flame the light of Luna burned – to see the truth of life this night.

The dance of light upon the night stirred a feeling within my soul.

Soothing my beast I released the burden of my weight and there she fled into the night like burning crystal – who eased my fear.

And within the gaping chasm of this slightly twisted gash of soil I faced my future fate by gently carefully moving forward into that dim light.

And into the night like oil each footstep soaked inside my soul; the fear within this slice of time grabbing my throat
so fierce and I, like EROS, felt as one with love, less that burning fear.

My mind a fever beating like a raging river I slowly seeped into the porous night
like some hungry ravenous creature who only wishes blood and bite. But soon that moment of decision as I met that ancient door of lore.

And with my hand so cold and grey I took to knock upon the legend no less EROS. In retrospect I must confess: seconds felt as minutes – minutes like hours, all in fear!

The sane and stable heart might wish to judge the fool I am but the need for love is stronger than the shame of fools
or mortal smite. To those who know the pain and silence of an empty life tonight compels the heart to find one’s lover
and to face one’s fear!

But this night my plan was nothing more than this: to find the house of that primordial god EROS no less
after Chaos, Gaia, and Tatarus he was born but for I — as I for him this night my ambition would find the way
feeble fear fled my coattails — chaos, darkness and abyss.

Nothing more to see so I fled into the frozen hills.

Yes me the mere mortal like EROS I sped upon a whirlwind beating glittering golden wings upon the night’s tempest
The burden of know what must be and that fate of me jarred my senses as my beast carried me across the wasteland.

The cold and waters so sadly sang to me DARK CHAOS by the grey woods and sullen hills I surged forth
ignoring fear.

Through my eyes were slight covered by cloth the light of Luna burned as though humanity truly only began to see the truth of life this night.

Pity us as EROS must feel to be when he mated DARK CHAOS

Entwined in wings they brought forth humanity who first saw light of day!

There within the smoke, within the mire of smirk and defiled fire sat Apophis. The one who took away the love that was the love meant for this soul of me.

Fractured but Never Broken

no one promised paradise
a thing ever imagined
no sentience no matter
just energy ink well
dipped words glistening
is black on white paper
became me due to you
my born imagination
fractured but never
broken | horror living
horror dying horror
if you had seen all things
i’ve seen you’d cry
is a flower dying for water
a world of never raining
societies of not forgiving
became me_______fractured
but never broken.

:: 10.27.2022 ::

Poco Purido

i have parched lips dripping on a highway mind
besides your heart
i dreamed and see cotton-candy
buzzards so drawn into your love

i forget i cannot go there into your dead
soul-cage heart ~ Gay! Captivating word
for this priceless Age ! A world now known
for renowned investigators of cellophane
purple umbilical nooses .

A dictum of a new world!

And a priceless Miss(believe it or)loose souls are a certain young
(fe)male confused in our society to betray the noose (oh hum)
give me a gun! So Miss(believe it or answer did (s)he meet the libido or cut that soul of baby breath
or the highness of a higher mind? So time slows down and i give you a poco purido to contemplate your
Pieces out-of-water-fish dancing dry death — so they sing, “we don’t know what it is…
don’t know what it means.

:: 01062016 ::

Dead Girl’s Smile

Not that anyone cares.
In the lightless hall striking scores with hands, toes, thighs, waist,
the gesture becomes language itself; surgeons wear masks, the women wear masks.

Mirrors on the walls
Reflect glasses on eyeballs
As heads, arms, hands, feet,
And legs are moved and erased,
Draped in skin-tight gowns
Which hang from feet,
In corpses’ striving twists,
Untransfigured hands grasp pillows
as they are pushed back to lift dressings,
as they try to fold clothes which flutter to the floor like bared breasts

As heads are pressed into pillows, like soil into seed.

And he is no doctor.
A vampiress is there, and she fixes her eyes on him, her mouth curling
to cast a dead girl’s smile when she speaks to him in Her foreign tongue.

When he leans over her to press the mirror to her forehead
as she is being lifted for transfer to Healing care, It is a mirror
Of life, and he asks his patient

What she sees,
And she responds,

“You see?

You’re dead.”

And now her stories and poems appear in public space, best poets, prairie Schooner.


:: 10.25.2022 ::