Wednesday, September 30, 2015

From a distance










Your eyes are swollen
And dark from crying
But I can't change your world
Because you've made choices
Only you can make
While I feel like dying
You follow your voices
And stay with a person
Who will never love you
He'll even hurt you
And hit you
Which wounds me too
But there is
Nothing I can do
Nothing I can do
Except love you
Like a man is supposed to
I love you
Like a lover who is true
I can't change your world
And you can't see
He won't stop
Until you are in his control
Fully in his grip
Listen to a different voice
Mine
He won't stop
Hurting you
I won't stop
Loving you
The choices is yours
And I can't force you
To choose

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

My Beloved King Arthur : The legends & myth that move me


Since childhood I've been a romantic of thought, and belief.  I have an emotional personality, and a mind that is entertained by notions of heroic defense of the codes of right and wrong.  Among my favorite childhood toys were the Silver Knight by Marx Toys, and the Castle and knights, a fold out vinyl castle and knights to fight endless battles. The tales of King Arthur and his Round Table of great knights were my super heroes.


And for me, I was moved by the vision of living for the code of honor that a life filled with the Chivalry code offered.  I was bullied often, my parents had forbidden me to fight, so I was not a bully, and to bullies my brother and I were easy meat.  But I read books to escape, as well, of course, comics, and movies.  I was able to survive the life I lived, mentally, despite certain pains, and sorrows, due to the beliefs I had.  And so, for me, the legends and myths of King Arthur and his day, were fulfilling, and enriching of my life.  They also allowed me to hold tightly my religious faith, without having to bend either to fit.


My first book of Arthurian lore that I wrote or was a part of was Lancelot.  I've described the genesis of the project elsewhere, but roughly, we chose to retell the story of Lancelot through our own eyes, telling a new version, with new art. It was done as a work with two teams, one from France and one from the US, and it is a beautiful, even stunning work.  The work of art that it is was in my mind flawless.  The words and images are beautiful and moving.  The business end of the work was poorly done.  It didn't make enough money for anyone, and so, it could be a work that was an orphan, having no other works similar or related to it.  But, since the original agreement was for a color work, and the publisher changed that without consultation, I held her to the agreement.  So a color version with enriched page color, color images, and fine lettering was done to offer a limited edition.  Few people who got this work realize how rare it is, but they truly can see how special it is.  Both books are out of print, but are truly beautiful.  Poet G.F. Evrard is my sword brother, and my comrade poet on this work, and I will never forget him.


The next chapter began following directly after Lancelot was published when I was told to write 80 poems about King Arthur.  This was a considerably bigger commitment and one that I was told would be mine alone to bear.  I would miss working with and communicating with my French allies, as the glory of a group project like Lancelot was the daily encouragement, the brother/sister friends, and more.  But this project was seen to try to narrow the focus, narrow the amount of communication needed, and try to make the artistic vision continue.   I had no problem writing about Arthur.  I'd seen myself as his knight for decades.  I was not him in spirit or in desire, and at least, not worthy to be him.  I wrote of the court life, the betrayal of him by his two best friends, battle, honor, and of the special honor he was owed by so many, for being the true king.  The world often sees the leaders it elects as being disposable, but the true leaders are so important we cannot afford to ignore them, to dispose of them.  They are once in a lifetime figures usually.  My work was complimented by the art of Trent Westbrook who had done some of the illustrations in Lancelot, as well as in my work A Life of Ravens.  When I presented the work to the publisher she held onto the work for over a year, and I realized she was not going to publish it, and a short while later she ended business operations.  So my friend Josh Brown offered to format it and help me self publish it, but, I knew he could write, and I requested that he also write a tale of Arthur, so there is a Josh Brown Arthur tale in the book as well. The resulting book Arthur Rex Eternus  in Latin means, Arthur, King Eternal, and I am very proud of it.


The Quest of Arthur: The Holy Chalice was my book of love poems and metaphor, and the Holy Chalice was the metaphor of perfect love that people seek.  I realize that people reading it might not see the book as such, and there might not be 100% of the poems in that book directed towards that theme, but overall, that was the purpose.  Initially I wanted, rather deeply, Josh Brown to write a short story again, but he was crushed by life events so, that didn't occur, but he did format the book and edit my words, so he acted as my publisher, for which I am very grateful.  The work is fully illustrated by Pre-Raphaelite artists on the inside and the outside cover is by my lovely pal Jason Moser.  Having him do that cover was a blessing and one half!  This work was not entirely about a single knight or story, but about the themes mentioned.


Lastly for now, KING OF AGES is the title of a fine book compiled by JOSH BROWN, yes you've heard his name before.  He is now the head guru of a small publishing house called UFFDA. The concept of the book is that King Arthur and Merlyn are timeless, and have appeared in the timeline of humanity, when the need arises many times.  The writers of the project were called to write individual stories explaining and portraying one of those times.  I remain grateful to Josh for all he has done for me, and my work in this book is another that I am grateful for the chance to have appear.  It was great fun.


A friend of mine who has produced art for three books or more has had some health issues.  He is feeling well enough that he asked if we could do another book. The news is so good considering the sickness being fought, of course I said yes.  While I won't go into fine details and who knows what the future holds, I will say, if the book happens, it would be welcome on this page regarding the subject.

Thank you for your support.

LINKS TO EACH BOOK:

My Amazon page
Lancelot
Lancelot color
Arthur Rex Eternus
The Quest of Arthur
King of Ages



Sunday, September 27, 2015

To the Deepest Well, the Debts have been cast

Cast off your years
Your sins will not follow
The tears of your sorrows
Will fall with your chains
I call upon you
To become once again whole
I beseech you to respond
Cast off your years
The weight of the world
Will not remain upon your soul
The debts have been cast
To the depths of deepest well
You are free
You are no longer slaves
You are free
You are simply to lay claim
To the legacy of hope
To the legacy of truth
To the promise of freedom
Found in the blood
You are free


















This poem refers to spiritual freedom, and that much of it is absolutely true.
But it is a shame that in such a world with all of its great achievements, slavery
of people in poverty still exists.

Find out more now.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Fear of death? How about Fear of life?

Timor mortis morte pejor
Why worry when you have nothing you can do
But breathe in, breathe out, repeat, stop
I close my eyes every night and bid you adieu
If I awake or not, I am not uneasy
I have no choie
I consider it the life lottery.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Tapestry undone, the Circle never ends

Over the years
Experience is amassed
Through trials 
Duty, love and blood
Sweat and tears
Woven
From silk and gold
Becoming over time
Life's tapestry 
But in the end
It will be unraveled 
And I will die
My body will come undone
The dust of my flesh 
Having passed
Will be scattered
To the winds be cast
Nothing made of meat
Amassed in volumes
Not even that 
Which seems to matter
Will last
except
The soul
Made of dreams
And Godspark
Goes on
Like a circle
No beginning
No end

Parsifal--- Jean Delville

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Melt

The storm and gale winds
Of the coldest midwinter freeze
Are a summer breeze
When standing next to you
You make me burn
Inside
Even as I am clumsy
Yes perhaps unsure
My footing
Breaks through
The top crust of the snow
The blowing flurries
Obscure my view
And I can't see
Despite looking
I try and still
I burn
Because somewhere
You wait and I will warm
In the halo
Of your heat
Of your heart
And hearth
When I find you
You blaze
Through the storm
And I reflect your fire
In my heart
I burn
And will melt
When we meld



Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The Prophetic Conqueror


He conquered territories across the world.
His armies killed at least 5% of the total human population at the time.
He was feared across the Eurasia.
Before he died, Tamerlane told his people,
I die, but when I rise from the dead, the world will tremble.
He didn't return.  But by a curse, he unleashed more death.


His name did not
Measure his power
Timur the Lame
Slayer of the world
Destroyer of hope
Bringer of sorrow
Bearer of the curse
He brought doom
To the world
In life
And
In death
None before him
None since
And only he
Has brought such sorrow
Since his curse born
To the children of man





Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Just telling you the truth

This isn't a personal attack
I never wanted to know
Reasons for the collapse
Catastrophic failures are
Usually self explanatory
Just take a breath and relax
So let us use instead
A metaphor
Since the love is dead
No one need be hurt
Begin the first act
Of your precious play
Enter from the left
Upon the stage
You are the playwright
And everyone you loved
Are the actors
Like marionettes
And you are the master
Work with me
I am sure you can imagine
What I am saying
Why are you so obtuse
Can't you see?
You never had a friend
A lover
Anyone
You allowed in your life
Who you couldn't use


Monday, September 21, 2015

Worthy of us

Bruised I am but not fallen
My surrender has not been spoken
Regardless my hope is solid
Even as my body is broken
My dreams are valid
Love is not an emotion
It is a choice
Redeems the years of pain
And injustice
Trust that it is truth
It is a choice that is worthy
Of us, just us


Sunday, September 20, 2015

Burned into the legacy, all I've done is ash

JOHN11:43-44

Is it right?
What end is worth the fight
Why do I care
When I am in no position to bargain
Where is the compassion
For this fool's plight
Sand passes through my fingers
Like an eternal clock
Am I blind
Have my eyes died
Or is it simply the black of night?
You can see
I possess no answers
My mind is filled with cancers
And I cannot remember
Anything
At all
Rumors tell me
Where to go
Because I have no clues
Left over inside
My diseased mind
And no one tells me
Any longer
All I have is questions
And they do not quench easily
Answers are impossible
But I do have confessions
I stand in the light of the morning
With nothing but my soul
Having given my fight
Every concession means
The world has won
But it does not understand
The victory conditions
The end of me is this
I have no memory
My flesh has no victory
All I have
Is who I am
And what I've done
So begin pounding the nails
If that isn't satisfactory

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Our dance to forever

Upon a stage of many
Where we began
As individuals
There is now one
Where once
There was two
In this living duet
We dance our ballet
Together
This pas de deux
Without directions
Without being told
Steel has sharpened steel
And love becomes real
We will grow old
But love keeps us young
Because your being
Is not the same as your flesh
Your spirit moves me
Your body moves yes
You take my breath
Every time I see you
But
It is the path
to forever
with you
That leaves me
Breathless
Forever
I believe

Friday, September 18, 2015

Friends Kin

She was my sister
That I never had
She was my kin
I never knew
And I became
Friends with you
By accident
Thinking you
Were my good friend
Somehow
In my messed up brain
Stunningly similar
In looks
Similar even
In jest
In spirit
Even
Beauty
of the quirks
And weird humor
That I loved her for
And then
She took herself
From my grasp
I never had a chance
To say
Goodbye
And now
Thanks to you
I can see you
Never say farewell
Just hold my hand
And never go
Never go


Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Damn this, Every time, Every stinking time
















Every time
A simple problem
Stops me cold
I know it isn't huge
But it crushes my chances
If I knew you better, I might ask
But I don't even know your name
So it won't even begin
Love can be
A Herculean task
When you are no hero
No legendary man
Just an introvert
A romantic poet
With no special talent
Not even with words
No famous name
No money
Nor sexy looks
Or wit
Nor muscles on my frame
Nor glory or fame
I am a loser
So why should I wonder
I shouldn't even bother
I'll go home
Crawl into bed
And hide under covers
Where no one knows me
either

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Beneath her veil



More than miles
More than years
I've searched
I've sought the truth
Fought against fears
And lost loved ones
To time and age
Lost my friends
To battles
And trials and tests
And now
After a decade search
I found the palace
The subject of my quest
Corridors, empty of souls
Towers watching no one
And the throne room
Once the seat from which
Life and death was decided
Now emptied of power
Neither gold nor prayers
Could energize it
The ghosts have even fled
The halls have become a tomb
And once
They were a womb
From which spawned
Power unchecked by man
Now there is dust
And memories
The treasure room
Is filled
There it is
A room so magnificent
Decorated with exquisite splendor
That pales in comparison
To the contents
Found inside
And without fail
Like always
I am more than awed
By what I find
When I enter the room
She is there
Beneath her veil
Aware of me and gazing
At the stars in her mind
She never stopped
Searching for her grail
But she knows
It is more than gone
But perhaps
It never was
And never will be
Because to find it
One must be
Chosen
Pure
And
More than lucky
But blessed
And she thinks
She has never been that
Despite her beauty
Life has treated her
Like an object
Rather than a being
Worthy of the highest honor
The finest silks

Monday, September 14, 2015

no more love

they are showering me
with shit
throwing their hate
telling me to get up
and leave
their hate is loud
outspoken
how will I live
after my life
was stolen
Now we are done
Heart filled with holes
Never will sleep
Catastrophic love
Shattered souls
Splintered dreams
slipping into the gray
after losing
what I thought was perfect
there is no hope
coming undone
God
where are you
when these horrors
bleach my bones
suck my marrow
split my brain
and leave me
sick
for the rest of my life



Sunday, September 13, 2015

When their world collapsed

Throughout its history
The earth has been seething
Although it is a mystery
The world is a living being
It expands and contracts
According to its will
When the humans
Are at war
Or they are
Living in peace
It makes no difference
To its functions
It is aware
But aloof
But we should know
At any given hour
Humanity will fall
And when it does
And where it does
The toll will be
Beyond measure
And the seeds of the past
Will give birth to the future
And humanity will forget
It ever lived before
As the earth spins
Ever again
Ever onward
As it always does







Friday, September 11, 2015

Since I saw you

You held me
Stopped my crying
Softened my fears
Kept me near your heart
I can't forget your face
Or forget your arms
Comforting
And then
You didn't even know
I existed
In your mind
I was erased
As if I were
Unplanned
Erased
Without any writing
Or pencils
Just by your hand
When you called
I was in a place
That I could not escape
So please forgive me
For not responding
Until now
My heart missed
So many beats
My heart had been failing
Since you were gone
For so very long





















It hurts even to live
Just to draw breath
And now the days pass
Meaningless
Like sand through your fingers
Dirtying hands
Nothing matters
Since you've left


Wednesday, September 9, 2015

My Recent Works Discussed

Posting a link here to an article I wrote discussing what works I've been a part of that have come out over the last couple years. 




Saturday, September 5, 2015

The Carrion Crows Feast upon My Past

She blocked the door
With her body
And asked me to stop
But I had to go
My heart was broken
Long ago
My dreams were gone
My prayers unspoken
I couldn't, ...
No, I wouldn't beg
I can't see what's right
And call it wrong
I couldn't see a crooked line
And think it straight
The world makes that mistake
Mistaking right for wrong
And straight lines for curves
The world is insane
Even inane
Without reason
My heart is not an asylum
So much more pain
Than I have ever deserved
I loved her
With more love
Than she would ever know
Still she crushed me
Pushed her hurt inside me
And told me to go
I lingered there waiting
Until I just couldn't look
At her face
And just couldn't face
A day's hurt overflow
I wasn't going to cut myself
Like fucking Van Gogh
So I said goodbye
Goodbye
Forever
With nothing left
And now I am walking
Dust rises and the carrion crows
Gather
And feast
Upon my fetid remains
And my pains
Of the corpse of my past