Tuesday, August 31, 2010

THE CROWD IS MY MASTER




Helm covering my skull
Armed with gladius
So that I might cull
And harvest
Defending my body
With my oval scutum
Knowledge of combat
Learned in the stable
I am a weapon
In the hands
Of the Emperor’s whim
My life may depend
Upon the direction
His thumb turns
Up and I live
Down and I visit
Elysium
And my life
Is bought and sold
For the pleasure
Of the crowd
I serve them
As well as the Emperor
So that I may know
Who my master
Truly is

Friday, August 27, 2010

Your eyes forbid me



There is heat in your proximity
With the lure of your scent
You draw me in
But your eyes forbid me
To ever enter
I long for you in this moment
Despite the fear I have
Waiting is torment
And I am aware
That I have nothing to offer you
Waiting for you to relent
Is like a drought
Loving you has left me desolate
Being unable to move your heart
I have nothing
Your love would be like rain
Washing away my iniquity
Soothing my wounds
Making my tears invisible
For your love is proof
That I am worthy
That my being is valuable
That there is truth
Worth knowing

My Queen, My Elizabeth


Dedicated to my wife...

Alabaster skin
Auburn hair
Gray blue eyes
An enigma within
The queen enthroned
Elizabeth reclines so fair
She is majestic and resplendent
Covered in gossamer silks
And mauve robes
Now is her time
How many know her
Who can tell
What she feels inside
The virgin queen
The land of Fae’s lord
So serene
As if she is made of
Magic things
She is the queen of my heart
And all who serve, indeed,
When I dream
I live in a world
Where she lives
I follow her
I breathe the air she breathes
Her perfumes are exotic
I am her servant
And I exalt
In her presence
My Queen
My Elizabeth


Artwork Copyright Jeffrey Catherine Jones

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Infection, Abscess and Scars


Through the winter forest
The riders came
In the morning mist
Through the sun’s spotty rays
The riders had ridden
All night through the storm
For the Northmen had come
Landing on the Eastern shores
With no one ready to defend
Against them
The landings were ideal
For the Northmen
Were an infection and abscess
Their existence there was a wound
Never to heal
A scar to be mourned
For the invasion was just a beginning
Of a presence in the land
Where they were foreigners
Invaders and takers
The riders might come to defend the land
But soon, far too soon
The Vikings would control this place
Offering only death and doom
And making demands

A kiss from Judas lips


"But he that dares not grasp the thorn
Should never crave the rose."
Anne Bronte

A kiss on the lips from Judas
Comes not from lust
Not ecstasy or joy
Not love or trust
Rather, our pain, and woe
For our flaws
We are crucified
I am made of clay
I am made of dust
A kiss so serene
You might mistake
The cause
The thorns in my side
Come not from hate
But desire
The crown of thorns upon my head
Comes not from anger
But fear
And it won’t be removed
Until I am dead
In the end

"There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills. "
Buddha

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

CUCHULAIN IS HERE


Cuchulain is here
The Hound of Ulster
Armed with a righteous fury
And Gáe Bulg, the lightning spear
Friends and foes alike
Witness the fearsome transformations
When his ríastrad is unleashed
Every one flees the field
Not out of cowardice but true fear
For the wrath of Cuchulain
Turns his being black
A fog of anger rises
As he moves to the attack
But more than woe to his foes
Even friends fear him
For when he is enraged
His wrath makes him blind
Wading into the fray
Time after time
Tragedies befell him
In all his glories
He felt the throes
Of horror and sorrow
Of the wages of steel
And he died broken
In spirit, in mind and bone
By treachery and vengeance
For a warrior of such renown
Could never retire upon a throne

Monday, August 23, 2010

Doesn't Matter

It doesn’t matter that you hurt me
You know that you abused me
Doesn’t matter that you don’t love me
Or that you lied
Don’t matter that you used me
I am glad that you refused me
It felt good when you said goodbye
Because I loved and longed for
Found what it felt like to be in love
Had my heart ripped out and
Thrown upon the ground
It doesn’t matter that you did this
Doesn’t matter what you do
Because I learned my lesson
That I can rise up from being down
That some people can’t be true
I know it isn’t everyone, just you
I know that you were wrong
But it really doesn’t help me now
I am still bleeding inside
But I am not crying, it won’t take me long
To stand up again but for now
I will lay here and sleep
I won’t deign to bow before a person like you
Not even in my dreams

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Young Man


Love gave you a reason not to die
It gave you a reason to wish to live
But the season of war is here
And it is a season of death
Nothing needed to admit
That its hard to survive
When you are a young man
Full of hope but full of scars
And it is seen as your time
To prove your manhood
When the leaders desire to make war
For no reason than to satisfy themselves
And their need for vicarious glory
Bought by your blood yes you will bleed
And they will tell the story
Of the angry tribe mood
The made war necessary
That made your death complete

HEAVEN'S FORGE

In the place
Where Heaven’s forge is kept
A single workman toils
Body of fire covered in sweat
He is relentless, working, working
Pounding steel from the forge
Shaping it and more
Giving it life giving it an edge
He is dedicated at the core
But unlike the others
Who live in Heaven’s embrace
He is not assured
Of his redemption
He is unsure of his status
For he isn’t like the others
Created for the purpose of serving
His blood is demonic
Though his heart is pure
The fire that consumes him
Is the desire to create
His passion is sincere
He is so committed to making
That he understands that
There is no truth outside
The creator’s hand
So he toils and labors
To acquire
His own redemption
In the sweat of the brow
Of the creator
Who built the forge
So that one of fire
Might earn
His salvation

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Stone, Flesh, Time


Alone and solemn
Solitary watchers
Crows fly in circles
Above looking down
The ancient stones
Memory stones
Remain to stand
Upon the frozen ground
We believe we are eternal
But the stones know
We are not
They’ve seen men fight
Seen them die
Seen them glory
Seen them cry
And still in this winter
They stand alone
Looking over a field
Of rocks and grass
Covered in snow
The cycle of eternity
Flows
We are made of flesh
Stone weathers away
We are temporal
A season of being
A moment, a day
The stones go on
If unmoving
Nor alive to our fate
But we are a season
And our legacies remain

Friday, August 20, 2010

Mon Petit Chat Noir


Mon petit chat noir
Agile and lithe
Perfectly quiet
Fills me with awe
Moving with abject grace
Stunningly beautiful
Serenely silent
She is lost to my embrace
Entered into eternity’s door
But I will love her
Until I am dust
She is my spirit
Alive in the dark
My Simone is gone
So far away
I miss her so
My little black cat
I wait to hold you
In the everlasting place
Let us embark
For the eternal
Where you remain
We’ll be together
Again

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

I WILL SEEK YOU

"The Grail is the womb of the beloved. "
Robert Anton Wilson


I will seek you in the morning
In the fields wet with dew
Where I know your scent
Feel your presence
See just how you move
I will seek you in the daylight
Where the shadows
Are very small
I long to know you
To hear your hallowed call
Your voice would redeem me
If you would receive me
Where your shadows fall
I will seek you in the dusk
The twilight of the day
I am broken by life
I seek to touch your face
Have you hold my body
In tight embrace
You are my hope
You are my holiness
I am dirty
Beyond cleaning
My being cannot even taste
Your beauty
In the evening
When I have searched
Will I find you
Will you end my quest
Will I know you
Will you give me rest
In your presence
Laying my sorrowed head
Upon your chest
In the quiet of the night
Will I find you
Because I am searching
But you never seek
You are there
And I am lost
Without you
Except in my dreams

“We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.”

E. E. Cummings

Monday, August 16, 2010

Crows in circles

Early morning
In the growing heat
Of the summer day
Crows gather and circle
Where the boys now laid
Dying where they stood
Some still had life,
Others dead for certain
A field of mourning
Covered in dew
Sweating blood
Through the night
Silently praying
For the merciful end
That comes to other men
Not those fighting
In a foreign land
Against nameless foes
In the shallow grass
Slick with ichors
Deep in woe
The bodies lay
To rot in autumn
Like left behind pumpkins
After the harvest
And soon to be covered
In a dressing of snow

Crown Royal

In the haze of the distilled rye
I am drinking
I try
To finally get free
I try to forget
But in she walks
And I can’t help but remember
All the things she did to me
My eyes burn to see her
Even alone without her new man
I don’t cry and tears don’t fall but
Doesn’t mean I’m not sad
So many hopes crushed
So many hurtful lies
How could it end that way
I was consumed by rage
Destroyed by the venom
Of cruelty served cold
We were meant to be lovers
But now she hates me
I longed to hold her
But she is with another
And while I am left cold
I seethe
Inside I’m dying
And the pain is killing me
I can’t stop the way I feel
Betrayal is so alien
Something so surreal
I burn inside
I should be with her
This life is a lie
If I cannot be by her side
Let the end come swiftly
I’m done with this world
I’m alone, shattered
But still she lives, still the world turns
And I linger here, drinking
Remembering everything

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Sleepwalking


Pour cette vie Je suis l'somnambule
Irony strikes for I cannot sleep
Realizing all my life that I am a fool
For even when I speak my heart
She doesn’t think I am true
If I see clearly
I’m still blind
Still locked in my tomb
Of despair and fear
I’ve spent my life embrace
Chasing after never was
Thrilling to scented perfumes
Of never could be
Waiting upon one who will not wake
While I live the half life
Of someone walking in their sleep
Or sleeping while I walk
I long to be heard but
My lips move but say nothing
My tongue moves but I cannot talk
I am sleepwalking through my life
But don’t try to wake me
I am overwrought
Je suis accablé
I am lost
In my dreams
In my sleep

We Are The Children


In the midst of the heavens
Is a world of green and blue
Spinning in the darkness
Lit by the sun
In glorious light embued
So holy and sacred
And life when begun
Is so beautiful
Fresh, and naked
Nude to Gods’ eyes
Serene and new
Without guile
Without disguise
We dance
We are children of the green
The kin of the forest
The fae of the earth
We hover between this world and dreams
We sing as if in chorus
We are blessed beyond any curse
Life will follow the rivers and streams
To the oceans and their course
So that the land may quench its thirst
As rain falls and renews
The children of the blue
That will nurture our being
Floods our lands
Falls as morning dew
With life, and growth
The horizon is not the limit
We are one with the blue
We are one with the green

Friday, August 13, 2010

Mjöllnir, Hammer of Thor

Lightning and thunder at his command
He is the God of storms
Unbridled power in his hand
Thor is the son of Odin
The champion of the Gods
Of Asgard
In his hand is Mjöllnir
A hammer unlike any other
His enemies cringe in regard
To its power unleashed in throwing
Thor is able without subtlety
To answer any question
To solve any issue
Greater than the finest sword
More powerful than a holy word
Mjöllnir is his weapon
His symbol of power
His holy sigil and ward
And Thor is just
Though able
To be violent
Unceasingly


“Mjöllnir would be able to strike as firmly as he wanted,
whatever his aim, and the hammer would never fail, and
if he threw it at something, it would never miss and never
fly so far from his hand that it would not find its way
back, and when he wanted, it would be so small that it
could be carried inside his tunic.”


THE LAST PHARAOH

Descended of royal blood
Voluptuous more than beautiful
She rose to rule in the desert land
Made rich by the flood
Desirable, powerful and bright
She knew how to move any man
Knowledge and wisdom deep as the Nile
Wide and deep, in no way shallow
Knew how to get her way
Cleopatra the last Queen of Egypt
Who ruled as a pharaoh
Was a moment
That comes rarely
From history pages ripped
We remember her
For she was more interesting
Than a fiction writer’s dream
And she lived a life
That was anything
But serene

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A HOLY SHROUD IT WEARS



(special thanks to James McGowan for these photos, taken in Russia and Armenia, he is a friend who also contributed photos for my book A LIFE OF RAVENS)

Shroud of mist upon
An ancient monastery
Remnant of faith
Watches over the steppe
Where the winds roam
And snow covers the plains
Cold and seemingly lifeless
But for those who remain
Full of life and vigor
Tears of joy and pain
The memories linger
But the ghosts scatter
When a child laughs
And the memories brighten
When day comes at last
But in the mists of winter
When the afternoon light is short
The shadows cast long
And hearths churn smoke
And ash and cinder
To help the living stay warm


Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Undone Dreams

I believed in her
She believed in me
We believed
What we had would last
But now we run
Unredeemed by love
Broken dreams so many
Unspoken hopes fleeing
Since she left me
I am undone
Left me reeling
I’ve been desolate
Inconsolable
We thought we’d tempt fate
By overcoming
The uncontrollable odds
But we didn’t
They took us down
Like we were prey
Like we were fallen Gods
Crushed by the missionaries
Of the new faith
And now I have nothing
But soft memories
Of a beautiful person
Taken down
By the pack
Of beasts that hunt
Relentlessly

Waiting

To know is not to have
To want is not to need
To desire is not to possess
To think is not to feel
I waited for her to decide
I stayed true to this day
And then I waited
Waited
Waited some more
I waited for the tide
That would wash me
Far away
For I could see in her face
That she loved someone else
I could hear in her voice
While she hid from my eyes
and undressed
That she desired another
One less complicated
One who wouldn’t smother
She longed to be left alone
Leaving me bereft
For I loved her
Beyond need
I wanted her
Desired her
Felt her
Waiting still
Waiting
Forever

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Endless is our labor

Endless labor
The parts break
The machine is soiled
From our unworthy sweat
Endless toil
Our joints ache
We are the broken
Our bodies feel the pain
Working to build
Living alone destroys
We are industry
We are factory
We are the oil
Of the gears
Of the machine
Of industry
Through the years
Lives spent hunched over
So that we are worthy
Arbeit macht frei
Is a lie
We are trapped
We can never be
More than members
Of an industrious hive
We are the ones
Who will never see the light
For we endure
In the tunnels of wealth
Laboring for another
We never win
In the dark dungeons
Of our man made hell

Saturday, August 7, 2010

MACHINES OF CULTURE


Our soul is invisible
Our labors are toil
Our being is questionable
We are created at their leisure
Purpose built
Manufactured
For the pleasure
Of the hive
The sound of toil
Labor’s sound
Drives us all insane
The drone workers
Born for work
No more than a robot
Barely alive
Shaking at birth
From the pain
We are the workers
Who toil
The machines of culture
Our sweat becomes
Society’s gain
But who are we
Why do we bother
Do we exist
Or simply
Survive

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Smoke Rising

Why bother when what I possess and have had
Are far more than I ever did desire
Why seek to go on when I know the path
And it has consumed all my fire
Why hope when there is nothing but pain
My goals reduced to tears and flames
All I am is flesh that lingers
But there isn’t anything left
Outside of my spirit
Let me burn upon the pyre
Let me be ash, an incendiary cinder
Let me be the smoke, rising from my burning chest
I am not worthy of the life placed inside me
I am exhausted from the flames that test
Let me be redeemed
Free my spirit
Let me be unbroken
Free me
By flames let me be released

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

RED TIDE



Suctioned
Vacuumed
Pulled from the darkness
The warmth
The chamber
Where we all begin life
Unborn birth
Saline washed insides
Burning worse than fire
The deadly red tide
Swimmers swimming
In dangerous waters
Poisoned
By choice



You Lifted the Veil

"I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down.
That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something
pretty... you fall half in love with them, and then you
never know where the hell you are." J. D. Salinger

YOU LIFTED THE VEIL

I don’t know my name when I am with you
I don’t have a clue where we even are
I haven’t a thought about world when I’m with you
I might as well be living in the stars
Because you move me
You make my world come alive
You redeemed me
Because of you
My dead spirit was revived
So gray, covered in shadows
Now I see the reasons
Now I see the truth
Because of you
There is less darkness in the night
I love you, am in awe, always
I need you, don’t deserve you
You lifted the veil between us
So that I might be walking in the light

"Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires." Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Monday, August 2, 2010

Bleeding Roses




for my best friend, who is hurting...

Bleeding out while taking in
The pain of love
Burning within
She broke my heart
Left me to die
Now I know
That I’m alive
But not that I’d rather
I want to be dead
Instead of bleeding
Pouring out red
While she sits
In her throne
Instead of needing
Me for her own
Broken hearts
Bleed unending
She crushed my hope
Now I am wanting
Just to die
Rather than wait
For memories to haunt me
It burns inside
Time to commit
Romanticide

Sunday, August 1, 2010

A Field of Flowers



“Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here. And when it does come, we no longer exist.” Epicurus


A FIELD OF FLOWERS

Every second lost, I am
Closer yet
To my sobriety
For when I am dead I will not hover
Will not stay in the world of stone
Lay me down in a field of flowers
So that their perfumed scent with cover
The consumption of my hours
I linger in the moments as they flee
Amazed by the variety
Some are sweet, some are sour
Some are ugly, some possess beauty
Some are tragic, some have majesty
Lay me down in a field of flowers
Their beauty will betray
That I have been devoured
By the day
By my misery
Jesus let the harvest
Begin in all its wrath
Jesus take me home
Let me lay
Let me fall
Upon the path
Jesus I am lost
And can never be found
Jesus come for me
I lay upon unholy ground

“I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather... Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.” Will Shriner