Thursday, June 30, 2016


I was told that my words cut
But I've never been so cold
From the silence
Of another's love
As when you loved me
And I was numb
From the frozen quiet
My soul echoed
In the tombs of hope
Where nothing survives
But the pious
And the fearful
Who never dare
You loved me
With a love that surrounded me
With a cold embrace
And I
Refuse to be
Crushed again
A willing compliant

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

asylum ideas

the spit mask leaves me silent
and I am without words
the devastation appears
I have no hope or dreams
in this dark asylum
my world is a square
with padded walls
for my safety
my mind cannot stop
exploring my sanity
only I know if I am crazy
but they do not care to listen
so speaking is not the issue
someday I will get out
and remove all doubt
all doubt
all doubt

Monday, June 27, 2016

Heroes and Cowards

In the teeth of adversity
The heroes go forward
And the cowards flee
The Gods call
The heroes answer
And the cowards fall
Because that is
Their nature
And the nature of war
When battle happens
The best and worst
Of our human nature
Bubbles forth
And we become
Or animals
We are not in control
When the wild
Of warfare
Takes over
Some respond
With nobility
Some respond
With fear
And some
Leaving behind
Their comrades
Regardless of the cost

Sunday, June 26, 2016

blood petals

Blood spray
Stray flowers
Stems cause wounds
Thorns and petals
Beauty and danger
Every mystery still unsettled
Hearts perform a duty
To make certain
They are never a stranger
Until it knows
Whether to avoid
Or to indulge

Saturday, June 25, 2016

no more, no more

that's it
I give up
I surrender
I can't take any more
I don't want to remember
Why we even thought
we should be together
I don't believe in forever
I don't use magical thinking
when it comes to you and me
I refuse to poke at the embers
of a fire that died
I can't keep grieving
the loss of something you killed
I can't keep trying
to resurrect something
you want dead
I give in
the enemy is too strong
I can't fight alone in my own home
I thought we were right but you've told me
I am wrong
Every small moment of pleasure
Has been paid for
Even the tiniest of seconds of splendor
Had enormous cost
And I refuse
I refuse to go forward
This battle
has been lost

Friday, June 24, 2016

Consumed by fire

After life has ended upon the earth
The remains of artifacts will speak
Telling a tale of a people who desired
Disguised their hearts while being paralyzed
With lust, consumption, and burning fire
To have what they had not earned
To know, what they had not learned
They were not evil
Simply naive
And because they were never wise
Their world would burn

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Heroes and Beggars alike

Everyone dies, everybody knows
And pride goes before our fall
Heroes and beggars alike are called
Judged too, without prejudice
Judgment happens, caws from crows
Lives alone, unadorned and seen
Naked before eternity
Elysium awaits the heroes
The good, the brave, the kind
Who have lived and died
The world says goodbye with a flourish
But the time to forgive has passed
And dead is dead, let us remember
Celebrate the lives that were lived
Without meek pronouncements
Go to the gray
With courage

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

false thoughts

no one knows
how very much
I am
missing you
my mercurial other
you are
my every thought
you are
my ethereal lover
my mind cannot
quite reach you
I keep trying
you aren't there
I long for your touch
but I cannot feel
you beneath my fingers
or my lips
and my heart
is hollow
with grief
my eyes are swollen
from the crying
over a lover who is not
over a love that is
you are an illusion
that I fixate upon
why fill my mind
with distractions
that wound
why fill my heart
with false attraction
so that I become
by the day
more alone
with deeper wounds
empty dreams
still forsaken

in dreamland

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Stygian dreams

Why do we do it
Bow before the altar
And say a prayer
For all of us
The dead and dying
The living and crying
For those who know
And those who don't 
To spend the time
Finding out
What is worth your life
Or your soul inside
Why do we spend all this worry
And all the love
And care
Only to throw it all away
On things that do not matter
Memories scattered
Insignificant moments
That lead instead
To torrents of pain
That never leave
And grieving
That never stops
When our the hearts break
When our lives hurt
And we take
Our lives away
Into the black of oblivion
The bleeding begins
Our children fall away
This life is broken
Our mirror is shattered
Nothing remains
Our world becomes Stygian
And our lives
Simply thrown away

Monday, June 20, 2016

Her Screams were Ignored

Her screams ignored
Her resistance crushed
Her sorrow
My life
His anger
His lust
My entry
She still carried me
To the term
I had a gift
of life yet
I never knew her pain
I was born screaming
I announced my presence
My existence
When I was awakened
I came out of her womb
But not from her
She had unspoken wounds
Her dreams
They'd become a tomb
Because of the lust
Of a man
Who refused to accept
A woman's answer no
He showed her no mercy
And the world
Took her child
And forgave nothing
Envy, regret, anger
Sorrow hardens the heart
The world resists anything
Who longs to be whole
One who knew what was done
 Reached forth a hand
Something beautiful
Was begun
Of grace
Poured upon me
First by her
Then by the one
Who reached out his hand

Sunday, June 19, 2016

His name is Quinby

Recently, just over the gray seas
A Celtic warrior was taken
To the graylands of the dead
He was not a perfect specimen
Short, modest of build
But what a life he led
Head full of hair
Spring in his step
He was full of life
Full of love
Lived every day
To the fullest
And when he came
To the Gwyn Ap Nudd's domain
He told the lord of the land
His name
He said
I am Quinby
I am not going to be here long
I had my share of life down there
And when I've that here
I'll sing you a song
And head off to a new world
And have that new domain
As my own
As this one I did
I am Quinby
Remember me
I live my lives

Dedicated to my comrade Edmund Quinby, artist, friend

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Quest Knight

Hard riding all night
Both horse and rider
When the morning light
Burns my eyes
With glory
Night has fled
My life has bled
With stories
I will rise again
I will remember
Every thing I was told
Despite the sorrow
Because without
There is no context
Victory without struggle
Is empty
Bitter earned
I am alive still
Though humbled
Ego tempted
I rise
In victory

Friday, June 17, 2016

King of Fools

In a flash, and a crash
blowing with the winds
billowing black clouds
the orchestra plays
the brass and percussion
are ablaze
surrounding me
announcing me
declaring my election
to the throne
I am king
and my crown
I wear to show
reverence to the masses
who chose me
to represent them
as their beloved fool
and I wash my face
with bitterness and ashes

Thursday, June 16, 2016


exhumed remains 
morgues are crowded
where the dying wait
while the living line up
preparing their way
cities are fixed upon
massacres of the living
children are hunted
hatred is a game
all that is left
is a black mass
of flesh of perfumed scent
and a purple hue
the world is synthetic
the living are entombed
within the belly of the beast
we are consumed
in the jaws of destruction
we are doomed
by industrial consumption
we are created
never once
were we mournful
for our situation
because we are born
we call this life
and we adorn our world
with pretty words
and call it good
because we have to
or it won't be

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Storm end

Like a model
Beautifully posed
She didn't move
At all
I was motionless
As well
As she lay
Laying still
Beauty was ashamed
It had never known
Such an elegant form
Her eyes closed
Her lips looked
As a red rose
Minus the thorns
I whispered to her
Asked to join
The dreams
She was having
All I had was nightmares
My nights had only
Major storms
Until she calmed
All of them

Amedeo Modigliani

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

The Chase

I ran from her and could not escape
she pursued as if I was her prey
across the snow my footing slipped
her path never wavered or dipped
I stared her down in her approach
in her eyes there was no recognition
that I could see but for that of hunger
she seemed to be there solely for acquisition
of my heart, or soul, or love, of my whole
only my exhaustion
led to my being taken by her pursuit
I wasn't dead, yet
but she was hard after me in chase
I lost control
And I linger in regret

fair use, image not public domain

Monday, June 13, 2016

we are vampires, we are not alive

When the world can't hear the crying
Of the children who starve every day
Or notice that the oceans are dying
Or the ethics that get in the way
Pollution is killing our lungs
We can't remember the time
When minds were free from drugs
Or it was safe to go outside
We don't understand our rage
Our souls turned into a blackhole
Sucking life from our days
We pour waste where'ver we go
And we hope that it goes away
Like fools we' ignore our need
To breathe and we forget
Our longing for life
We sit upon our hands
And refuse to believe
End up begging for strife

Sunday, June 12, 2016


To some, a curious mind is a cancer
To question always, never finding answers
To others a curious mind is great thing
Learning and using knowledge
Allows a life of more than simple needing
Ask and know
Be silent and stunt your growth
Always seek
Always find
Always dream
Feed your mind

The Sphinx asked: "Which creature has one voice and yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed?"

Oedipus answered: "Man—who crawls on all fours as a baby, then walks on two feet as an adult, and then uses a walking stick in old age."

Saturday, June 11, 2016

Hunter games

From the very start
He saw her as beautiful
and desired her
But to his heart
she was not a conquest
She was a sublime
And absolute need
His mind was obsessed
yet, he resisted the urge
To possess her
His love for her was pure
He longed for her but
She never replied
He had no permission
Not even to approach with tact
She was demure and acted
As if he was invisible
He was going mad he believed
In his heart he was crushed
Until she turned and acknowledged him
And immediately
Caught her prey
Without his knowing
He'd been a target
Of the hunt

Friday, June 10, 2016

By my own hand

I am guilty of deicide
By my hand
The lamb was slain
I pounded each nail
I speared his side
And now
Comes the black rain
The innocent always pays for the guilty
The white wool sprayed red by the hand
Of the one covered in sin
Only God knows the darkness within
Why should I be spared when I in despair
Selfishly pray to be remade
I am a fool and coward
I refused my fate
And the world devoured
All I am
All I ever could be

Thursday, June 9, 2016

Between flesh and spirit

I need something more
something that can move me
something that will stir me inside
because I am empty and waiting
and I cannot stand what I am seeing
tempted by the fruits of pleasure
but finding it boring to my mind
what is the point of being
not gathering treasure
not finding a lover who is better
at some sexual gyration
or tête-à-tête with someone clever
or learn some pointless human thoughts
that take us deep into the heart of the nethers
in the end
I will be measured
by my love
not the detours from my journey
due to my love of the flesh
despite the winding of the path
I resist the desecrations
of my body for the joy of everyone
that lead only to wrath

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

The Quest Knights sent, and returned

Many of Arthur's knights and squires were sent
From other lands many more would seek
The Grail was the object of the quest
The Holy Chalice was desired
To heal the wounds so deep
By those of virtue and by those without
Lancelot was called the perfect knight
Yes he was a warrior
Without peer
He was tormented by desires of the flesh
His way of the sword was perfect
His quest was filled with battles
Lancelot littered the field
With blood and bodies
Of the dead enemy knights
Who died by his hand
And although he struggled
With finding the grail
He made the path of others clear
Sacrificing his glory for them
And by doing so, he saw behind the veil
That his soul might be made right

Parcival and Galahad
Were men of peace
They were amongst
The most elite of men
Known as the greatest warriors
But far greater was their faith
In the course of time
Of Arthur's reign
The many gods had fallen
To the worship of the one
They were filled with hope
Never despair
They received the sanctification
For their path
With prayer over
The quest begun
Parcival, Galahad left
Knowing their role in the grand scheme
Of righteousness

To quest for a religious artifact
Requires the sacrifice
Of innocent blood
And upon the path
Many fell
And became the perfect lamb
For the forgiven sins of Arthur

While three knights saw the Chalice
Only one could approach the vessel
And touch it
All the while choirs were singing
Anthems of beauty
And of restoration
Of the King's domain
Arthur's wounds in his soul
Became visible
And the torment apparent
The chalice would restore him
The blood of Christ would renew him

Shells in the undergrowth
Tangled in thorns and tree roots
Skeletons in armor, no longer moving
The many sent who never returned
Over time are covered in moss and vines
And their shields and armor are rusted
The bodies become one with the land
The earth is returned with its own
And King Arthur's most trusted
Are now gone, from this place

Galahad returned the grail
And placed it before Arthur's lips
Drink from this my King
He said, the lord bids you come
One sip from the chalice
Restored Arthur and his land
His flesh renewed
His spirit vivified
He was again king
And his land was one
With his being
Turning green from gray 
The land now blooming
The Holy Chalice
Receptacle of the blood
Carried water made holy
And became holy fire
In the blood of Arthur
Restoring his spirit
Connecting his soul
With the land
And his lord

As if Arthur recovered
As his life had moved
From winter to summer
Upon becoming at last whole
Arthur became aware
Of the many sorrows
His land had suffered
The Saxons had attempted
To take control
Following the restoration
The lands were green
But after the battles
With the Arthur of legend
The grasses were crimson colored
And for a time
Until the last battle
Arthur's reign again
Was glorious
And his domain's path went upward
As his rule was without peer

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Steel warrior

Grieve still I do
Alzheimer's stole you
Every night I pick up the phone
And I so want to call
Tell you the news of today
To chat about your family's lives
But heaven forbid
I know I can't
You aren't home
Your life was spent upon us all
Giving to others
With labor in your days
Living sleep deprived
You were made of steel within
But life is a bottle of wine to decant
You lived every moment
Of every day and night
You were without fear
And refused to go gently
To the light
You held on
To the scraps of memory
The hope you had
Cancer couldn't beat you
You were a warrior
Made of steel
I am lost still
Years since you left
And ever will

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Tell me again, they were property

How are we to apologize
For the cruelty
Since we deny it all
From the first
The truth we despised
And by lying
We've made it worse
We are unworthy of the truth
We are the unforgiven
Perhaps even unfaithful
Overcoming slavery required us all
To become enlightened
But what about using people as slaves
Needs to have a light shined upon it
To see the wrong?
Whites and Arabs became the curse
To the continent of Africa
And treated animals more humanely
Than the Africans stolen from the land of their birth

Saturday, June 4, 2016


I've been the pretender
To the throne of lies
I've been the prince
Wearing a disguise
In the presence
Of majesty
I am
Pretense is my talent
Immorality is my skill
Learned from years of trying
Never winning
Never dying
I kept walking up the hill
To sit upon that throne
Built upon the dead
Who never gave up the spirit
After years of selfish pain
Now dust and bones
And nothing more
I am a pretender
Forsaken son of the world
I am a curse
Physically dismembered
Removed from humanity
I remember
A child who believed
In the truth
Only to learn
There is none
We are here
To turn
Take one final repast
From our flesh
Or burn inside our soul
Until we learn control
And escape the curse
Of the first breath
That leads to the last

Friday, June 3, 2016

Memory Trap

Regret is a trap
And we are all victims
No matter how innocent
We all become snared

Regret doesn't play fair
If we are diligent
We can escape
It isn't permanent
But whatever our desire
We will reenter the trap
Our souls come back
As if we want the pain
We try to be hopeful
Or honest
But we are never strong enough
We are delicate
And will shatter
Under the weight
Of becoming undone

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Before the Grail quest

His soul hollowed
The land suffered
As if by a disaster
Becoming a wasteland
His subjects grieved his pain
His body was drained of light
As if tormented by cancer
While in prayer and meditation
He came to know the truth
That only the holy chalice
Could restore him
With his body and soul
Completely restored
So to the land and people
Would return to life
His mind as sharp as a knife
He knew the answer
King Arthur called for a quest
To find this holy chalice
Surely a major trial
A great test
Of skill and honor
His knights were scattered
Across Albion
Word was sent to them all
They first gathered to hear Arthur's call
For a crusade to find the artifact
They'd need wisdom, brains
But mostly a warrior's guile
Then they were made to know
Seer Merlyn's word and calling
They'd ride carrying their banner
Their shields announcing their title
They'd serve their high king of the land
Simple warriors they were not
These were knights of the realm
Of Camelot, the domain of Arthur
Given land, a keep,
And the right to bear arms
They were sent
To accomplish an impossible act
To find one item
Smaller than a helmet
Known to few
The cup used
To catch the drops of blood
That flowed from the wounds
Of the Christ
Making the chalice so holy
It would restore others
By the echoes of blood
From the body of Christ

Lord Tennyson
Holy Grail poem

`Nay,' said the knight; `for no such passion mine.
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.'

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Really, it isn't about me

I haven't given up upon the ideal
That we should all be allowed love
And to be able to feel emotions
And everything that is real
But it is an ideal that is not pragmatic
We fuck first
Then hope to find love
We become enamored of the falling
Refuse to do the work
And try only to stay together
If nothing better seems to be offered
By passing schemes
Retarded dreams
False beliefs in nothing
That could ever pass for real
We have all become jaded
Because life has become an equation
Instantaneous gratification
Pornographic ejaculate
Intimate electronic greetings
Replacing hearts that once
Were meant to meet
We are victims
Of our desire
To make it all simple
And then it did
But instead
It became far worse
It was so simple
It became impossibly
And unreal
And everyone stopped
Being willing to feel