Lifelines I

My Wealth Increases By Relativity

To the poor I see

Pocket change becomes a standard of measure

To those whose turned-out pockets wave the wind

Small waving flags

To the goods nearby.

I Turned Away

Before you saw

The laughter in my eyes

Your sincerity undone

Unproven by what

You so earnestly affirmed.

Did you think me blind

Or worse, deaf

To insincere verities?

To the immediate gain

Of long-term professions

Of love & fire

In the barren, ash-filled fields?

Oh No, My Friend

I moved before you glimpsed me.

Wiping off my long blade

Of your amorous, overheated blood

On your sleeve, for all the world to see.

I turned, in careless escape,

Leaving my lip-prints

On your soul…

Sucked dry by need & ignorance

By tears of sheer frustration

Blessed by holy men.

It Came To Me

Once so rapt in prayer

To curse & flay

To beat at Fate

Like a child beats at stillness

I moved to shadow from

Holy Light.

I struggle now to find the words

We once abandoned in this dusty field.

Now blown against fences

For all the world to see.

The art show of my world.

No pictures but screams instead

Impossibly brought to bear

Upon my hands.

My Heart Has Broken

‘pon the shores of your pebbled beaches,

The rock-filled flanges of your mountainous demand.

Tis ripped & sore, so bruised, blue

as my sea once was.

The impossibility of love &

Totalitarian Fate

Scraped & scrapped like the palette knife

Against an easel.

Nothing smooth here

Only grated crumbs are left,

The peels of love

Possessed by none

Colored by need.

I Await

Your breath in my bed

The tenure of your hands on

This body, my vanity

Sore from self-inflicted Other.

I have a collar.

Will you not leash me now?

Chain me to heaven

Where I may bark to carry on

The song of the Coyote Angels?

The Glamor of a Life

Unhinged, unfettered, unencumbered

By need to pay but only play along its edges –

Deckled & gilded in

Your words:

My feelings.

This I would live: thus I would pray

Were the words to wash ashore

Like sea-eggs

Filled with salt & potential

Pontificating the hand-over-hand of Life.

Will not the furrows of dawn

Berate the sky?

Encapsulate the ocean, so raw?


The dregs are so much

Sweeter than the life

Has ever been before.

An Afternoon Nap

After a large lunch

Stoked me to write these

A dream on waking

My elbow sore from oldnew wounds

I frayed the edges of my soul

Against the cheesecloth of time

The burlap of sin

Chafing many places

Wrapped in sinew of  possibility

Forgot by even God,

My angels fight to keep me sane.

Interior Lights

Work no more

I grope for enlightenment

Choosing sharp edges to fall against

Testing my mettle.

But life is not my former state:

Life is where I live & where

Showmanship dims to facts of

No audience

Inferior to pacing across an empty stage

The nutcracker season

Came early

Finding me late for limelight,

Lost to imperial need

I did not earn the Right

By wrongs of note & number.

Black, Then White

A bard in a barn

Singing to the livestock

Talent un-mourned

For all its likely presence.

Brought up short by Change

By “new normals”

Entrusted to Age,


Eyes sinking back

With misplaced bruises.

I tower over the competition

When this there is –

I sing, a cricket in a midnight corner

Keeping you from twin resolutions

Of sleep & prayer.

My scraping song the fingers pulling your hair

In darkling hours,

Drawing your breath to mimic my music

That together we may grow.

October 3, 2020

Nothing To Lose

For as we age

Our faces fold in upon themselves

The maps of all our days emerge

In laugh-lines, in worry-warts

In fingers grown like twigs on a forest floor

Beginnings mete out endings

Relations fall from edges of our earths

White-salted seas encroach once-growing green

But all in all, I would not have it any other way:

For from these stiff environs

Virility of the mind evokes

The thoughts speak themselves

I am beyond caring, evolved from a life of care

Having achieved my mantra:

I have nothing left to lose

Each day to gain

God himself has tasted my winter soul

And wrought the miracle of spring



Familiar as my teeth is age

Brought into balance by agelessness

For all that brings eternal into mind is mine

Too soon, too young retires into mist

As all turns white

The color of my bones

Emerging into earth

And when this is decay & eyes are dark

This life no more

A tiny spark will up, away

A laugh’s delight

Free of sinew-flesh, of lips & liver

Free of knees that kneel no more to men

With arms no more to carry, carry

Lifting life & bearing it.

My woman’s heart will finally know silence

As into the drumming beat of life I go

Into the seas beyond a mortal shore

I’ll swim, a silver skim of scales

Mouth wide to all the light of life

Eternal & intense

Reflecting in the mirror

Behind me all the toils of the world

I swim to fly,

Oh Mother! Father! I had the most wonderful dream!


The Muse returns, unequivocal, demanding

Surrounding me with her perfumed robes

Pushing the pen into my hand

Closing my eyes, I write once more

The words that will me to live for ever

For ages yet to be, for thoughts unheard

On paths unseen

She turns my head away from all of now

As I become the beyond of her desire

“Write!” she snarls, pearly teeth all shown

“Never be I said I failed you, my slave to words,

Silver-hearted, blood-borne light,

“Write, you fool of phrase, trap them each

In broken sigh. Pile them all upon your sleigh

Take up the traces, pull them forward

Wake them up for there is no such thing as sleeping

To be had today.

Dash your tears into the future

Follow them there

What lies beyond cannot forget itself, let alone forgive,

But must be said, be felt in dream again

I leave no stone unturned, no gift unopened

This is all yours, this blessing of the Scribe.

You need aught else, you have no more

Than these true words grinding into wheat

Between the millstones of your swollen heart

And this, your only life.

Yes, you hear me now; I’ve never died

tho you’ve given me last rites

I will ink your middles

Till you rise into the last Word

Like God Himself calling forth all heaven.

“Write!” she growls, “you think you’re harried now?

I will harrow you to dust unless you do!”






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