Ode to Nicolaus-of-the-Sun

thy faintest contour
stole away
my consciousness of mind

the gods had draped me
in a realm
of excess exquisite

chests indulged
of selenite did slough
with bare refulgency

merging strikes
barbaric heaving

maleness
manacled in chainmail

criminal
didst cup constrictive

summoned heat
from sweetened friction

visceral
precipitant

banded strands
stretched tenuously
strung with statuesque erecting

flesh of cryptid cusp
and blustered hue
imbrued from brusque abrade

strapping
with a sturdiness
to beckon vice
from days of yore

swore studly forms
of ardent study
hours long and arduous

Sir Nicolaus! i cry
what thoughts besiege
my frail composure

compromised by rippled
thew with pulse of potent impose

ecstasy encompassing
his sexton arm’s saxon embrace

brandishing a brawn
to render
every knave his pawn of privy

lash thy leather-laden fury
leash mine impure soul
with haste!

douse me
in thy verse
triumphant

trenchant
as the lunar blade

bathing in thy
breathless inquest

trouncing
like a bison herd
at the hour
of forbidden dusk

hoarding hesitation
forming sedulous
below

shouldst thy barren breast
e’er hover
skies of supple
silk embed

the flames of brooding
wouldst impend
with trilling prod
of importune

like surging wells
on crescent shores
imploring swords
of sowed release

lonesome rogues
dealt swift
a sweltered
sun of melting
auric fleece

bound like mured barbarians
gone mad
with torturous vexation

strident thrusts
of jutting bulge
and urgent bender
banned by lawmen

turgid girth swoons
swathing growth
doth ghastly
fill tumescent eye

pinning this supine
confliction
to a bed of fallow dross

O my precious Nicolaus

let us not fall
remiss

like pistils
sifted into dusted dreams
of lust lamented

let us now succumb
to rubble
amid subtle
swells combusting

~fini~

Hollow

this pithy endeavor

shadows of dust
masquerading through time

i looked away
laughing

returning
to barrenness

the warmth
of her touch

once
insisted eternity

how quickly
it vanished

seen
through open eyes

this sand
shifts beneath us

swallowing memories

until we are hollow

devoid
of our sentiments

i still walk beside her

footsteps
in spectral snow

when all
turned to nothing

and she was no longer

and i

left behind

[image credit: Odilon Redon]

Ode to Zechariah

long before light
cleft the heavens in twain
a movement
of manhood emerged

unlike the unsavory
dissidents prior
his was a station deserved

he fostered conviction
amongst the rapt populace
stoically instilling mindful revolt

fully apprised of philosophies spoken
unlike static sophists consisting of molt

fervent emotions born of empathy
ever consuming his radiant heart
salient locution so poignantly posed
lingered long after he bid to depart

tales of his august aplomb echoed through the vales
prose poised to avail the downtrodden denizens

parlance empowering dispelled compatriots
apposite to proletariat wards

forged in the fires of familial defect
stuttering sopor
societal ire

nonetheless, pwning the epic drum solo
from “too hot for teacher” when he was but twelve

not having given an “F” he sought “T”
and tempered his mind with the breadth thus required
of the scant few i regard as elite
he is one by whom i’m duly inspired

Deep within this tattered husk lies the hope
to someday avow this Marxist of a man
of every last tender kiss wrought by his words
intended for naught but to better this land

Science

to see you

is to understand

the urgent sway
of gravity

the spectrum
of infinite hues

precious molecules
in bonding

you fill my primal senses
with the knowledge

thought divine

Universal Truth

The universe has once again flourished in my consciousness.  Knowledge of my own existence and that of the world around me becomes my reality.  There are many things, infinite things for which i feel fear and unknowing.  Life persists and time is imminent.  I am helpless to anything other than surrender to its insistence.

In spite of the anguished plight of each individual’s existence, i feel the warm energy of assurance and comfort radiate throughout my entire being.  An understanding that all that has been, all that will be, and all that is, shall be okay.

The singularity of time and truth looms above.  Not as a harbinger of sorrow but as the sun, infusing all with its golden beams of love.  Doting on each and every one of us with buzzing motes of life’s exquisite mystery.  Anything within and beyond our comprehension may take place at any given moment.

Just as we are here so shall we be gone.  As those that are gone are here, surrounding us with their love and granting us stay.  Their existence continues in all realms.  The love that permeates throughout the varied instances of our day speaks of this divine truth.

This understanding brings hope.  The love we all share brings hope.  Hope is the understanding that although we have no possible way of knowing what things may come, we refuse to let the fear of the unknown tarnish our weary hearts.  For we know that things will be okay.

Knowing that regardless of the surreality of reality and all things contained therein will happen as they will.  And this is okay.

Every moment we have ever experienced.  Every treasured memory   Every misplaced memento that wanders throughout our subconscious as the fuel that feeds the fire of our dreams.  Every brief moment of perfect happiness that so fleetingly dashed across our life’s landscape.  Every first beholding of love that was previously unknown to our conscious minds.  All of these exist in this very moment.

When we gaze upon the open sky of umbrage we are overcome with a sense of wonder and awe.  As we glance upon the very particles that compose our own existence in physical and ethereal form.  The true essence of everything in every temporal tense of existence.

That truth is love.

 

 

 

[image credit: Chesley Bonestell]

Perilous Sky

my truth existed
somewhere
in her opaline eyes

a timeless visage

dangling moonbeams
from the edge of oblivion

muted by the dismal
desert sky

silently
she drove an erubescent arrow
through the sorrowed vales
of a wailing echo

which impaled my imperfect heart

i followed her flicker

’til the trail
led me to an apparition

which dissolved
into a parasol
sprawling with mesolite

then she vanished
into the night

[image credit: Kay Nielsen]

Petaluna Linger

awash
in coils of amber
umber

and slumber
as autumn awakens

a solemn breeze
seizes
lofty trees
in lucent columns

a gauntlet
of ambient umbra

born the republic
of czechoslovakia

briefly
a voice could be heard:
“call me ishmael”

forces of intrigue
colluded in union

to bring forth
a most inconsequential
kismet

through mistral moons
into mellow mons

from stumbled startings
to fallen ends

asterina anomala

sweetness
of a serene dawn

plush fur of eternal purr
fills my pillow
ever brimming

buffering
this astral seraphic
kitten cabal

[image credit: Ivan Bilibin]

Eve of No Tomorrow

lay your thoughts
upon my pillow

willows whisper
winds serene

tales unfold
composed of kisses

lost in silent reverie

this night beckons
ever urgent

argent skies
immersed in light

as the stars
succumb to ruin

tranquil drops
well in your eyes

[image credit: Kay Nielsen]

Let Me Tell of No More

hope

like humankind
is truly
the cruelest

if not all too usual

like a challenger deep
i could have easily
inhabited the trenches
of the great mariana

if left to my own devices

in a steady stream
of entropic existence

this, is not to say
that my soul would not
seep through the fissures
absconding to hellfire
in iron-core iconoclasm

my chosen paths
are minded with honors
and badges

it’s the acclimatization
and the stayed deprivation
that stave off the gravest of fates

. . . to be stricken
with the malignancy
of minded emotion
in the spur of the moment

to. . . argh

to, ~ f e e l ~.

for when i do
dimensions cry, uncle

as my watery ways

shear gaping rifts
through the planes of perception

. . .

i dwelled in detachment

living tortuous death

every breath a burden anew

but at least i knew~

now, time has wrought trickery
upon my soul’s dispossession

and the distance which spans
amid consequent disparity

has displaced my consciousness
landing a final blow
upon all i have known

rent by the unspent
tempestuous
turbulent
fervid
and festering
the influx of blustering
bombast so drastically
thrashing my breast

an impetuous
press against her lips
precious

all the years of my life
have always belonged
to her

this, i know
will inhabit my bed of dirt
when i greet the insect hordes

but more than just this
it was the mistle-streaked
visage since sallow and sullen

the culminating of hearts
acquiescing

a lifetime flashed before me
in that briefest of respite

much like a comet streaks
through a burst sky

only now

had its tail ensnared
the pulsating mass
fresh from my chest

and thus it was shot to the sun
in an instant

and such elucidation
diffused forces known

as gravity left me
to fall back to earth

nothing
can tell
of the ghastly descent
whence i combusted
to dust
from the old familiar sphere
of atmos and mir

thunderous crashing
i plunged into depths
the source of eternity’s tears
ever felled

in an instant
they passed through me
like ghost particles
colliding

i can no longer abide
let me now stay my tongue

take my leave
for this grievance
shall venture no more

boring all
like the sting
has bored holes
where my eyes once beheld–

let me tell
of no more

[image credit: Tess of the Storm Country (1922) featuring Mary Pickford]

Trust

i have spun this web
with words unsaid
upon a bed of sorrow

love ne’er ebbs
though in her stead
i dread to face
the wakeless morrow

broken vows of death’s departing
spoken with a silver tongue

cloaked in shards
from shattered hearts
enshrouded by the blackened sun

seconds fall at fevered pace
as life does from this land of lust

where all intentions turn to waste
and hurt is what we earn for trusting