Friday, October 31


Turniphead, it calls itself, when names are worth
Something, dumb thing, its eyes dawdle, grin goggles,
Filthy earth-birthed thing.

Turniphead, he calls it, the one who fears it, cheers
Himself secretly with morbid musings, sick-wit choosings,
Never normal, not this one.

Turniphead, they call him, idiot tongue lolling about,
Without a brain, an empty head, so long been dead,
Still, crisp crunch inside.

Turniphead, it marks their words, stores them away
Where half-thoughts play, where half-made things
Wait for the right day.

Thursday, October 30

Time is Ticking

Time is ticking, trickling, trickinG,
Inward, outward, driving, driveN
Makes of mortals origamI
Endless wine we can’t but drinK
Into clocks tocks epiplectiC
Stir the seconds, splash graffitI
Tempt the vast miasmic poT
Into out of unkind hourS
Climb the fools in bright confettI
Kicking, angry, and naivE
Inmates to our inner gleaM
Now as curling nautilI
Give over moments to defeaT

Monday, October 27


and so descends the night
locks him close within its bowels
makes him move as fawns from wolves
tiny hooves
trot the moss
sense no loss
and here he takes his rest
pensive boy in solitude
how his brashness hides the soft
candied land
colors thought
like it ought
and makers breach the boughs
break the vows prehistoric
forces nature to implore it
xanthic missiles
aimed at nothing
timid hunting
and swells dark disenchantment
in crystal spheres he stares
amnesic indiscretion flares
artful boy
in his prison
double vision

Saturday, October 25

The Deep

Step into the deep, my dove, where chasms open wide.
Here all pretense creeps, my love, and plasm subdivides.

Suspended in the gloomy gloom your premonitions glow;
Upending the unfinished loom lets admonition grow.

Fibrous faces, silent chases—here desire reigns.
Let your brain its binds unlace; thrill at the insane.

Inky inhibitions slide; now ripens the forbidden.
Murky fades contrition’s pride; siphons clear, once hidden.

Now pulls the pulsing core so close; the rules were held for naught.
Pressure dulls the bogus host, whose ruse no longer mocks.

Canopies of water flecked with fingers grasp for crime;
Righteous words in kelpy wrecks now wallow in the slime.
Diaphanous will lie the bones in vast disastrous heaps
Of all of those who chance oppose what happens in the deep.

Wednesday, October 22

Where the Phantoms Race

Little children know the place,
Far from mother’s call,
Where the phantoms race—and
Small eyes peep through the walls.

Gleeful moments twinkle long
In the sunlit days;
Soft the siren song—draws
The sweet ones in their play.

Green to gold and crimson rust;
Autumn takes its hold.
Fates change as they must—airs
Quick move from warmth to cold.

Ashen crowns on tousled heads,
Beetled eyes and tongues,
Flash the frost brings dread—now
All pendulums have swung.

Effigies in marbled rime
Still as life elapsed,
Consorts with grim time—so
What once was must collapse.

Monday, October 20

Starry Eyes

We miss the gold of yesterday
Wonders wreathed in mistletoe
Complication, infatuation—what moved those hours so?

An apathetic dynasty
Built atop misguided mirth
Elementals, complementals—for what were such dreams worth?

Illusions move elusive hearts
Myth denies most precious schemes
Coruscating, gems dilating—starry eyes so starved for dreams.

Wednesday, October 15

Robert the Doll

Dolly come and play with me.
Dance and skip and sway.
Pennies for your fantasies—
Pay you back someday.

Little sailor in your suit,
Smiles all around.
You come from lands of sunny fruit
And speak without a sound.

Move from pane to pane to pane
When family isn't near;
Never eye has seen them plain:
Whispers to the dears.

Whose, the padding cross the boards?
How, the chair, it rocks?
Softly move the window cords,
Softer sound the knocks.

Blink and giggle, dash and wiggle,
Tormentor and fastest friend;
Screams at night, frenetic fright;
When will dolly meet his end?

Monday, October 13


beast of fur, flank, force
pebbles vibrating, sediment sliding
curve engenders curl and quail

thing so primitive, primordial power
flat-footed fleet, monstrous conceit
warning curdles wane and wail

bastion plodding, tower toddling
hot and heady stink of ages
bestial urges skull to tail

mountain moving so compelled
crystal breath clouds majesty
any other whitest pale

Thursday, October 9


Ever younger stretch the days
Crossing planes where sunlight plays
Coursing through each throbbing vein
Sparking off the gemstone sky.
Here we are and there we’ll be
No plans for eternity
So far are all your races now
But I will wait in spite of why.
Mark the moment of return
Dusty hearts still know concern
Castles in the clouds are built
When casements burst and fevers fly.
Calm the maelstrom churning wild
Reprimand this foolish child
Dim the glow of reverie
Let this lesson fade and die.

Wednesday, October 8


the strangled men sleep, weeping oracles cast aside
and you, duplicitous, false counselor, impress a kingdom for a moment
that moment forever cursed

friend falser than fiend, never mouth what you mean
braver boasts the weary warrior, his days spent unsafely
night destined for treachery

giant your gifts, mendacious bellies, where the craven carved one last hope 
strange gods to praise deception—you slumber while numbers
mumble, stumble into a dupable city

where marbled men breathe their last, coined lips, blue eyes
insidious insinuations, perverted fabrications
no door opens to welcome

Monday, October 6

Rosy Posey

She lost herself in shoals of gleam
Became submissive drop in stream
Bits of colored glass
Sparks, sharks, pretty in the beams

Around her drift the thousand blues
And effloresce unfathomable hues
Moments snailing past
Sweet art, dark heart, come to woo

And in the plasmic playing ground
Distracting comfort, light, and sound
Spinning freakish fast
Rosy posey, posers, ringing round.

Wednesday, October 1

Lachrymose Louisa

Lachrymose Louisa through her languid lucite tears
Mourns lovers lost a thousand times,
So fragile in her fears.

Once upon an evening she requited some dark deed.
Such recompense as makes hearts dense
Was crafted from foul seed.

Tailors sewed her moony gown in layers of fine lace
Sartorial skill, so coveted still,
In foam concealed her face.

Mystic maiden, comtemplating, drifted from her court.
Love once hidden did as bidden,
With this false consort.

Naughty one, Louisa dear, to play such puckish tricks;
Seas of fishes—all you wishes—
Now you take your pick.