A Glass, Darkly

A GLASS, DARKLY

It so happens that
true hearts, their bleaker parts,
those garnet gleams of dreams,
they mark us,
turn-to-dark us.

Where emeralds once, now smoky mass,
and in this tangled, grim morass
I wonder as I wander,
ponder as I pander to the
dissolute meanderings of a mind diseased,
a thing on its knees,
so please . . .
please.

Allow me to elaborate:
a spec-te-ral entanglement,
aberrant entertain-y-ment,
where what's within the brain is
plain at odds with what we claim.

I'm told our actions speak much louder
—do they, though? It's cloud on cloud here,
crystal shards in eyes deceived.
Curse the imp's cracked vanity!
My vision's through a glass, darkly.

Wickerman

WICKERMAN

limb of straw and twig and twine
hollow man, athirst for skin, a-
trem-bl-ing along its spine
sruthán le fuil agus tine

beast, bird, body inauspicious
flesh frenetic caged and pinned, a
banquet for the gods lubricious
sruthán le fuil agus tine

wail and wimper man of wicker
sacrifice what's deep within, a
pagan faith and flame a flicker
sruthán le fuil agus tine

limb of straw and twig and twine
sruthán le fuil agus tine

Greek Chorus

GREEK CHORUS

God from the instrument--valentine dactylic!
Fate in its Greek chorus tells of the idyllic.

Triplicate faces and serpentine veneries,
homage to odysseys, clandestine prophecies.

Thebes! Oh my extant, this plague exalts eagerness.
Pearlescent white-hot--the core of our wine-dark seas.

Stirrings where none should be, penance for revelries . . .
Sever the verse that determines the hero's course!

Pennate, the winged dash to bits on the precipice.
Cold Amphitrite cares naught for my tragedy.

 

The Women in the Woods

THE WOMEN IN THE WOODS

out in the woods, out in the water
out in the woods, out in the water
take us down to the ghosts of our daughters
sticks and stones bring the lamb to the slaughter
out in the woods tonight

under the moon, under the stars
under the moon, under the stars
sister sightless taking what's ours
bones are breaking opening scars
under the moon tonight

friend to the worm, friend to the raven
friend to the worm, friend to the raven
skull and soul and flesh of the craven
on the knoll their sorrows are graven
friend to the worm tonight

tell it to the wind, tell it to the wild
tell it to the wind, tell it to the wild
now's the hour we bring home a new child
swift devour the pure and beguiled
tell it to the wind tonight

A Love Poem

A LOVE POEM

the tiger stalks in bars of orange

and crimson tongue

razors push through gum 

sinew thick and dumb

he’s numb,

at least to your appeal

glister red inside your head

and organs plump

it’s instinct, no offense

he makes no recompense

just sense

to him, you are a meal

sweet entrails wrap a smitten heart

two bloods turn one

so jaw engulf your head

and grind the bone to dead

sweetbread

most primal love ideal

A Shiny Thing

A SHINY THING
 a shiny thing I never was

nor made of stuff immaculate

but toothy grins and shins and bruises,

burnt up skins and string-tied shoeses

tentacles and pentacles; spectacular, tentacular

pentaculate, tentaculate

immaculate--

no and nope; not me

all angles in their witchy ways, 

all writhing feelers gone astray

a playground where no soul dare play

and in the gnarly blackest spots

where itches scratch and scratches cross

there rots the lot of should-have-beens.

the what-it-is

is what is there, and 

nowhere . . . nowhere

nowhere

is that thing once bright, that shiny light

oh radiant thread, pulled taut and tight

just hair gone mad and fingers roaming

eyes gone bad and fancies foaming

far from impeccable, close to wreckable

a shiny thing gone dark

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Hush

HUSH

 hush . . .

the touch has broken tips

it looses what in unfeigned hours

thirsted for luxuriant flowers

lingering in tumescent air

immaculate the time we share--

so no more of your luring lips

just hush . . .

concupiscence entombed in need

the bones I break to satisfy

we born to wing are damned to fly

while soulless, starless in the dust

impossible suns ignite, combust

so none of this; we are agreed

now hush . . .

a moment locked in diary

the pillars of our fevered minds

like curls of hair unwave, unwind

in one-two-three the braided guilt

unfastens while the seconds tilt

so know me now, your devotee

and hush . . .

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The Monster's Sweet Farewell

THE MONSTER'S SWEET FAREWELL

cold in guise, inflamed in eye, 

so stalks the child of the night

boundaries unbound in flesh repressed

unnatural nature, anomalous fright

opal cheek ensanguined 

ruby red, so move the dead

their heads, inbred, the porcelain bite—

the blood enthralled, forever fled

now run the veins of our desires; 

nocturnal creatures lap them free

in deep abyss of dark concave 

the harvest moon creates its slaves 

inspires children lost in lore 

a breath on necks bent back for more

and when the dark of churches' bells 

a-ring in spells occult and swells

of craving, not of saving, 

one who wants the misbehaving

here the white against your night  

here the monster's sweet farewell

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Pre-Game

PRE-GAME

shy and shadow, bric-a-brac

crafty cues the master makes

latent once, now lightning cracks

beneath a skin the toucher wakes

pull a string

they’ll go ‘round in rings

tap a tune

their heads’ll balloon

above, below confetti bits

parade the pawns of foregone games

master crowned in crystal sits

where no one knows each other’s names

turn a key

for the repartee

twist a tongue

the pre-game’s done

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Curtain’s Call

CURTAIN’S CALL 

Quirk of contortion, a portion 

of what's recalled and what fits, 

what we bind into bits.

Arms extending, bones a’bending, 

amortized ends 

of wasted beginnings.

We don’t belong here, bodies wrong here, 

xanthic shapes 

all sound birdsong here.

Hungry undertakers wait for mishaps, 

ate what perhaps was never meant 

for this nor that.

We glow, we spin; we flow, we sin; 

we are, we won’t; 

we scar, we don’t.

Encyclicals of all amiss, 

why feign lost stars 

when sunsets kiss?

Acrobats all, through fires we fall—

drowning in rivers 

at curtain’s call.

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