The God of All Trickery Laughs
and feeds on our foibles and gaffes.
Our reason he’ll halt.
He yawns, we default.
True facts, we’ve been played just for laughs.
5/10/19
I write things and put them on the Internet.
The God of All Trickery Laughs
and feeds on our foibles and gaffes.
Our reason he’ll halt.
He yawns, we default.
True facts, we’ve been played just for laughs.
5/10/19
a bitter burn
on shriveled tongue.
rising bile.
turned shoulder.
left to dust
and ruin.
praying for solution—
dilution—
Brother, can you spare
a cup
of water.
5/9/19
They go down to the water
carrying clay pots.
dip and lift
dip and lift
Life runs down their arms
in rivulets to the river.
The jars are slick when they return.
Each vessel
faithfully carried.
They have not dropped one
yet.
5/7/19
Red lips – Red lips!
Painted with glee
Red lips decree
that you are free!
Futile – the eyes –
claiming ownership –
Done with the Shackles –
Done with the Whip!
Held captive in Hell
No – now see!
Strong beyond bonds – for good –
Is she!
How many donuts
will fill
this breach?
A sugary pile
of guilt-gifts
only rots.
Cut back
the ragged edges
of the outer wall.
And make passage
out of breach,
to go unto
dear friends
once more.
5/5/19
the lights of camden across
the way blot out the stars
(or maybe it’s just low cloud cover)
ribbons of silver on black
shimmering waves
wind on water
sending chills—
—only skin deep
bass rumbles
deckboards underfoot
and I’m glad that I’m sad.
It’s a beautiful night.
5/3/19
An even pace that never errs,
the reassuring rhythm drums
gently from the mantlepiece.
Driven by the unseen gears,
behind a blank, unseeing face,
steady constant slips your ears—
until kept time runs out.
4/30/19
the seagulls call
the tower’s tall
the ocean wild
his spirit mild.
quiet dreams
the kettle screams
the sun comes up
he fills his cup.
and sweeps the room
without a broom
no fuss or fight—
he keeps the light.
in storm, the glow
will let them know
those seeking docks
find only rocks.
the sun goes down
but none will drown
while darkness prowls
and north wind howls.
the sand is clear
to never hear
another voice—
it’s his own choice.
the sun comes up
he fills his cup
the sun goes down
no one will drown.
the shadows turn
and he will learn
what silence is
to lives like his.
ocean dark and wild.
wrecked and beaten up.
guided to his light.
at the door She Knocks.
3/7/19
I have no answers.
only questions.
Long-winding roads with no end.
I have no speeches.
only silences.
Snowfalls on white-frozen grass.
Whispers from rainbows
and echoes in caves–––
I have no certainties.
only reflections.
1/18/19
The leaves whisper secrets.
The heart whispers longing.
The wind spins a merry dance,
telling the rook what the raven
said about his sister.
Black wings take furious flight,
dark against rumbling rainclouds.
The leaves hatch darker plots
on slippery tracks,
derailing the trains
of my thought.
10/15/18