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WAY OF THE SEVEN STARS


Response To That Final Question:

Ignorance is the Bane of Man.
At a distance removed,
Dimly remembered, and
Still not seen distinct,
But yet somehow felt;
What we do sense
Is not reality; is not the Real Thing.
This World is hologram.
Then; for lucid sleep;
For it's just a dream
Within another dream
And we are not awake.

Seven Stars' Song of Revelation

Ignorance is a jail where no escape
Is possible but through knowledge.
Don't fear nor spurn. Dare to learn:

Assent to and accept this world as it is
Before attempting ascent to any world
Aspired to or wished for. Life's glorious!

That That Is can be known but by few.
Not space, not time, not gravity exists;
But as Extension from Field of Thought.

Be subject to neither church nor crown.

Dread naught. Disdain none: Not One!
Absent That That Is, there's Nothing.

That That Is, IS. That That's Not, IS, too.
That That's Not makes That That Is: IS.
That That Is makes That That's Not BE.

By rowing to That That Is, I become "I."
Wind + Water = Wave. As THOUGHT is
The Heart and The Nave of The Wheel.

Worlds are created from Thought alone.
That which we will do is because of that
What we are. We'll become who we are.

Charity, courtesy, civility, compassion,
Are cardinal spokes making civilization;
Chivalry forms center, hub's circle core.

IS is! Be not the slave of some other's I.
This, Creed of our Seven Stars Society;
This, The Teaching of the Seven Stars:

No man can be happy if he should choose
To be exile from his own nature and soul.
ALL IS THOUGHT ILLUMINATING BEING

HEART-HEALING THE CHARIOT WAY

Precognitive Prescient Prophetic Poetry by WILLIAM O'CONNOR

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Turnstiles to Eternity: Verse 2

The heavens have become color. Turnstiles of light, emerald and crimson, swim and shimmer, fenced in formal rows, in the north night skies of winter; admit slender slices of blues and yellows to sneak on in.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Turnstiles to Eternity: Verse 1

Delusion and illusion, the two true trains of society provide underground transportation; supply subway inspiration to travel upon, to stay upon rails of popularity of prejudice, between the station stops of life.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 33

Flat taunts of rain, turned by the wind to sleet, whip athwart the streets. Heads down, collars up, the harried hurry, trying to walk to homes and heat; but by white gales are held back on this fierce night.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 32

Beauty is better than Truth, because Beauty is more truer than Truth; for any truth lacking an essential elegance; for any truth absent lacking single pure simplicity, is no truth at all. It's impostor and a fraud.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 31

To seek for something new, to explore, to simply go, and not to find, is what it is all about. Movement alone is the mission. There's no joy in museums nor in musty books. The sublime is out there, waiting.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 30

Winter is season of anarchy. Covered silent shrouded slumbering skies conspire to reflect the long snow avenues, filling the empty halls of streets; making there, the bare bleak mirror of nothingness, in White.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 29

In-folded chrysalis, That Which Is, is, only for a time and is inside Time; as when, in Becoming To Be, That Which Is took on coat and cloak of Time, as its mantle, to cause; to enable, That Which Is to BE.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 28

Heathen flower, wild in garden, you don't belong here; no word for you, no appellation describes you. Just be strange from the flora around you. It's this difference, this distinction, that gives you beauty.   

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 27

Sea birds hum and hover over what's exposed. Despite cruel damp stink of death of out-going tide on a river strand, it shows, on wet sands on a bank, what's left. There's glamour in it: crabs that stare at us.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 26

The cut and slash of sarcasm is warrant for revenge. Who will, and in what sweet voice, reply to such a scarcity of wit? Who would speak of what we wished to say? Yet, still, we remain in silence at the hurt.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 25

Genius never sleeps. New wounds and fresh sufferings pound to stay awake. There's no answer to it; not even a question. It is what it is and what it is can never be what we would so want to have it be.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 24

The cancer of a benign transmission from the past prisons the present. No cause is ever lost. Tumors of tradition spread wide to strangle innovation. The new is excised, is censored; is cut out from the future.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 23

Study and work make for drudgery of existence. If you would live; create. Constant invention of the new, the different, is what sustains us; delight in destruction of what is then accepted truth before. 

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 22

Common cause of fools is War, of hated enmity against they not like themselves; they who are different in beliefs, in religions, in creeds. War is the end of they who can't see, of those blinded who refused life.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 21

Bush and brambles of deceit conceal and camouflage the hidden evil at the heart of capitalism. To seek it out to discover it, capture that cold kept secreted, deeply close, in the very marrow of its bones: War. 

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 20

Splitting rock fracturing thin crack widened by dirty water's black ice breaks stone; frozen fingers of fissure prying apart gray masonry of granite, shaking boulders loose to tumble down to canyon floor.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 19

Frozen rainbow of yellow and blue, hue of breathed hurt, of colored cold sucked down in lungs exposed; turns to green of bile inside; turns to algae cough; turns to catch of breath; turns into an inhaled icicle. 

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 18

The vast space between lust for power and the love for the potency of use of reason ever shall expand, when ignorant religion engenders murder by promoting bullets and bombs to decide difference of faith.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 17

Long dalliance, the pregnant charm of a mordant procrastination in surviving through the frost, saves the roses through the wet dreams of snows of winters. Sprigs spring forth to thorn; then to blossom.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 16

The studious happiness of ignorance, enhanced, fostered, by compulsory education in propaganda of the State, can only come to War; a common core of studies makes citizens docile in acceptance of lie.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 15

Time then to chamber the cartridge of desire. The taste of morning excites in the mouth, clean and hot and sugar sweet in the dawn; first coffee of the day stimulates, provokes, pushes the body to carry on. 

Friday, November 14, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 14

Absent presence, absent being there; for all your piety, for all your stated belief, nothing can come of it without action, without the commitment of risk, without the gamble of being all in to accepting destiny.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 13

Before you break the rules and they ought to be broken, know the rules, know the statutes, and know the laws; and then, go ahead break them. Discover what's dishonorable in the law; then, do: Disobey!

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 12

Curse on your head, you teachers, you mentors of mediocrity, you professors, you syllabic instructors of propaganda for a State; you who do know better, for your salaries, for your tenures; have led us astray.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 11

From rock to rock crab-wise they move, always close-hugging coasts of conformity; afraid to venture out onto the deep oceans of thought, of action; the teachers and professors, instructors in cowardice.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 10

It's an unfair world and should be so. We took out a payday loan; its balance is now past due. They who carried fire forward shall be celebrated. Who played safe, who only tried to make deadline, condemned.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 9

Numbers are present without things and are before things. The need for a thing to be a thing distinct is number; for without, it floats in the Void, unknown, unnamed; given number, is recognized and named. 

Season of Anarchy: Verse 8

What's permanent is change: laws evolve to change and laws that push evolution to evolve, to change, are shaped; sculptured as to force change: what grows to expand has wealth to grow to expand more.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 7

The frolic architecture of a flower was not designed for we but for some fertilizing bee. Time and chance have brought them both to harmony; to a dependent singularity. The one without the other wouldn't be.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 6

Quash the past. It has no meaning for us. We are of a different generation; a people without tradition. We'll make new rules and better laws. What was has no longer relevance for us. We will not revere it.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 5

So sudden was the ending, so unexpected and unplanned for was the news, the shock of death maimed me; and I became not me no longer but some weird limping creature with strange long distorted limbs.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 4

Come join me in rhyme and in sweet refrain. Reason is against us here, a barrier to the strange land of intuition. Sooth troubled mind. Musics from movements of the senses make detours to enter revelation.

Season of Anarchy: Verse 3

The holy land is wherever you happen to be standing in Time. It's that space you're occupying in The Now; not someplace outside, distant from you. It's where you are, and because you're holy; it's holy.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Season of Anarchy: Verse 2

Lavender skies and purple snows move soft in mauve, in least acknowledgement in the early morning hours; before dawn's rose hush rise of sun turns to streaks of yellow, of orange, on the still blue hills. 

Season of Anarchy: Verse 1

Season of anarchy, bare troubled winter of anxiety, has descended; has come, attended bleak, by creeping cold. A frost world crackles in brittleness; fractures into broken pieces of frozen divorce.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 33

Voyager sail on. Canvass of space is pushed by light; is propelled by fire of consciousness; is piloted by compass of compassion. Significance is shown in signature of every star to give passport to the future.

Quaking Aspens: Verse 32

Peeled paint, scratched, splintered, stretches a wooden window-sill; the panes in the old frame, four in all, beveled, bent, give individual view; each reflects its own disfigurement, and none of them are true.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 31

Remover and destroyer, acetone peroxide bomb, detonating blank white actinic light, exploding great shroud of destruction, a legacy destitution of life; perfidious bond: religion and ignorance of zealotry.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 30

In the rising ground of age, when the sea of youth and plenty slams against the cape of maturity, onto cliffs of destitution, the surge of necessity strains nuance from life; leaves lees of hunger, desperation. 

Quaking Aspens: Verse 29

Mask of a perfect day in the park: mauve clouds billowing blue beneath, a starry nation of rose mallow soft-swaying in wind; balm for troubled mind; for heavy bonded soul and heart, stranded here below.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 28

Sprays of over arching thick ferns spanning spare distance, sides sloping high green walls of canopy on dirt brown thin narrow deer path between: Wilderness track stay closed; keep secret from spying eyes. 

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 27

The last light of day fires upon a lone larch tree; kindles it in an orange crimson hue to make it bleed in bright against the stark dark green stand of spruce, only to gradually subside down to twilights of blue.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 26

Light rain falling, in a refugee drizzle deported from the sea, wind whipped, transported from some mysterious fairer land, blows north; bringing hard harbinger warning of northwester coming down.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 25

Opening eyes in some morning rise; waking into some yellow dawn to a soft lush tranquility purged of anxiety of dream; waking into halo of stretching limb that precedes and foretells sunshine in the Mind. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 24

Fascination amplified by proximity to fear, by a close nearness to anxiety of oblivion, to nothingness, to that blank space that occurs at death, to razor's edge of life; stimulates and forces balance of maturity.

Quaking Aspens: Verse 23

Much of life consists of staying out of the rain. Learn all you can about all you can from whom you can; but beware the foolish ideologies of states, faiths and creeds for they'll fall as acid upon your very soul.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 22

A great crack in the world, a separation of continents, an ever deepening chasm, divides mankind; the orthodox evangelical from the rational liberal, and that crack is growing ever wider and is lengthening.

Quaking Aspens: Verse 21

Slogans dipped in blood, many times mistaken and many times misused, the long shadow of a flag or of a banner serves as a guide-on, serves as justification for invasion, for occupation; excuse for holocaust.

Quaking Aspens: Verse 20:

The rusty cage of democracy has been broken into; it's old lock of diplomacy shattered, and the tiger of ideology is let loose. In the silence of apathy, hear its snarl and its slurp: The teeth of anarchy devours.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 19

A plaintive pattern fashioned by a universal prayer; an aspiration greatly to be desired, that the fangs and horns of prejudice and betrayal can't prevent nor the smirk of slow acceptance hesitate, is peace. 

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 18

Sparring words, wounding words, evoke and spawn an age of darkness of the heart; cause a closing of vessels of compassion; cause shutting arteries of empathy; cause the squeezing of sympathy from life.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 17:

The universe thinks in perceptions not things; the laws perceived are the rules applied to this World's evolution: We make reality up as we go along and, as we are; so shall the World be and shall become.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 16

Getting tired of being me. Blood-red moon rising in the East. There's a monsoon coming, a dark deluge and if I'm still as I am now, I won't make it. Neither will you. It's been coming on for a long time now.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 15

Too much too soon makes for so much pain; makes for an attachment, for severance that robs identity: Glass houses that we live in; glass houses that we die in; glass houses stand as sentinel to censure us.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 14

Reverberations of folly, blindly followed time and time again, the sharp-short bugle calls to march in step, to serve, to sacrifice, sound out in endless repetition; sounds in loud echo taps for endless war.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 13

Though still defiant, though still opposed, though still opposite in opinion and belief, beauty is forgiven everything. Comes at last too fast the ending for this life; but though the singer dies, the song lives on.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 12

Basement dingy, a subterranean apartment hidden concealed below the stairs; it's theory is excused by economists' exercises: Slavery is essential to capitalism; always been so, it's its sole justification.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 11

Arrest the sorrows of memories and the guilts of regrets. From convergence comes an emergence unstoppable. Escape license. Escape tyranny. You are meant for yesterdays and not just for today.

Quaking Aspens: Verse 10

There's revelation in concealment; solution in silver clouds smoothly passing across pale face of gold moon; in scent of night-blooming jasmine responding to that transit opening in spawning celebration.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 9

Owls, in vast assemblages on gnarled limbs, of oaks, of elms, sit still on branches, shackled by the dark, chained to longest night beginnings; hoot, protesting the Moon and in its shine ghostly sounds rebound.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 8

Strand of twisted oak, solemn survivor of the slicing stroke from lightning strike; defiant, stands alone amid fog and dark in silent celebration of still being here, of still being able, even now, to put forth life.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 7

Pale-transparent against snow covered hills, white shrouded somber ghosts, misty-vapor presences; in stripped thinned leaves, trees in heavy bark stand silent, nostalgic for the summer long since departed.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 6


Ease of money led us astray; corrupted us. Commerce made us avaricious, soft easy prey. Conscience's prick causes a consideration of direction, of a hardened change; to make mark with a black thorn stick. 

Friday, September 19, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 5

Never not for nothing, I am for you; though a phalanx of bayonets is deep arrayed in skirmish against me, I am for you. I will never forsake or desert or forget you. Though I die, faithful still shall I remain. 

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 4

Inspiration has no pity no apology, bones of belief are fleshed by adversity, made resilient by battle; the craters and the scars, seared in bombardment of the senses, meld, to join sentiment to the soul.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 3

Rime upon their budding branches, a frost is coming on the cherry trees, closing and cocooning exposed black extended tips; the fire of their blossoms both white and pink, will have to wait yet another Spring.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 2

Born absent a causation, with no connection needed to consequence, without a care for responsibility to anyone or to anything, we enjoy who we are: Who we are is just fine, is good, just because we are.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Quaking Aspens: Verse 1

Cold snap, twig break, winter is coming on and the lights are being turned on earlier every day. Startled by sudden changing winds, sharp anger in the aspen trees shake leaves in an awkward leaning tremble.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 33

Go for the gun. The rule of law is what you're carrying on your hip. Come quiet in the dark, with silencer ready. Shoot the fair enemy that was your Art. Begin new life over corpse of old, and then; create again.

Monday, September 8, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 32

In holding on to lantern light, when night has come, when the darkness looms so close, who shall dare to share and bathe in brightness then when each person's passion's flame is dimmed; trimmed by age?

Thursday, September 4, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 31

Saffron soft in mellow yellow hues, tinted by a late September afternoon, lazy clouds smother the early blues of morning in deeper tones of a slow motion gray that gives to distance the close horizon of hope.

Friday, August 29, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 30

We are but toys for Destiny; sailors on Fortune's ships. Our blood beats the finished story of our lives. In expectation of delight, beg early parole; for a reprieve. In turbulence and struggle, Fate sails us on.

State of Silence: Verse 29

The meek are not remembered. Genius is at war against common culture and lazy compromise. Be wild in ambition. Be savage in intention. Be berserk. Be barbarian. Temperance doesn't make for greatness.

State of Silence: Verse 28

Every age teaches for its very own madness, for its own unique psychosis, for its own peculiar lunacy; for we are born to be schooled, to be educated, to be so shaped as to become martyrs for our cultures.

State of Silence: Verse 27

Discrete and digital, blink by blink, breath by breath, reality hovers in and escapes out from existence; for that which is not is canvass for all that which is, for all that which was and for all that which will be.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 26

Funny that way, every day in every way, the expecting heart stumbles to broken promises, to dreams tripped by daily drudgery of work and obligation; yet keeps on beating, keeps on hoping for tomorrow.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 25

Stay angry! Break the chains of conformity. It's a diesel rain we smell coming in the air, stench of our gasoline future, kindled by fires of faith; ignited by mullahs knowing nothing of what is, what will be. 

Friday, August 22, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 24

In the silence of the twilight, in that brief violet hour that comes right before the still calm of the night, lean in to hear quiet dark. Listen to that purple blush that follows sunset: astonishment at loss of sight.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 23

Suss-ration of leaves speaking in whispers, quaking aspens inconsolable, protest in green tears, shake in irresolute winds, surprised in anguish, unable to express themselves in any other way; quietly sway.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 22

Grim fragments of remembrance, sepia photos before The War faded now and creased; sad mementos for causes lost forever, haunt yet in dusty portfolios hidden in hope-chests in attics and in basements.  

Friday, August 15, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 21

The World has went astray some-when, and we're lost within its wilderness; for this Earth has become overgrown in weeds, dank masses of The Dark, a gray desert where nothing can grow but a rooted evil.

Friday, August 8, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 20

A stutter in thought is accompanied by a hesitation in action so yet still another opportunity is missed; another chance of change is gone and we're condemned to live, complacent, in our same old routines.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 19

River, cascading over ruffled rock, slick sharp and gray, spumes forth silvery wavy spouts; darkens in black pools of falls; sudden sparkles, emerging into sunlight; then, lies it still, submerging to a silence.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 18

Vapor habited by ghosts is my heart; broken voices murmuring in clogged vessels filled by memories of past conversations, speaking far away and close nearby; heard in the ear, in the pounding of the blood.

Friday, July 25, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 17

Distant in the mist, hidden in shroud of fog, sits the place of shadows; sits the dead and derelict world of the tenements; for they who choose to pay rent to any master shall never own a home of their own.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 16

Rain, spilled out from forced marriages of Earth and Heaven, tears of ground and sky, splashes down, washing with it the sins of yesterdays, taking with it the debts of today; leaving sudden clean streets.

Monday, July 14, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 15

Foreboding clouds, thick with rain, hover on the horizon. New thoughts in new ways are expressed in thunder so; rumblings of revolution, sparks in spikes of fire; in snare drum rolls of lightning revelation.

Friday, July 11, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 14

Deport the poor to give to the rich their place. Pay them the minimum wage to those that still remain. Starve them out so they shall leave. In their poverty of wit, such then is the privileged men's refrain. 

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 13

Moon pale, an in-folded light, amber sulphur hued, streams through tight pulled-down blinds at night, bringing dreams of delight. Long longings, soaking in desire, stretch, levitate; are readied for release.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 12

Abandoned in memory, faded away, dissolved to an ambiguity, who here shall speak for the dead? For those who were so untimely taken? They who are unknown; who are forgotten; who remain unnamed?

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 11

The silence of devastation prevails; since, once more, War's mad catastrophe has cleansed the Earth of Man: the cancers of faiths and states, ideologies of priests and politicians. have laid to waste our World.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 10

Blood, bone, brain incarnate deep within reality: All is One. All is Number. All is Thought illuminating Being: Three things shape and guide everything, as absent them, there would be Nothing; just Void.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 9

Long remedy of days, of hours and of years, of hopes and fears, the certain light so sure so steady in mists of mornings, fades with age; dissolves into a stricken illness in time, into a habit and necessity. 

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 8

As their defense, a fascist nation forces its young peoples to become nihilists, to believe in nothing, to become rebels to no causes at all; for when made subservient to State is to be made subject to no faith.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 7

Ignorance is bane of Man. What you don't know will kill you; make you evil; make you enemy of your self. The professors, the priests and politicians all make up a cabal for the prevention of knowledge.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 6

At a distance removed and dimly remembered, still not seen distinct, but yet somehow felt, what we do sense is not reality; the World is but the hologram of a lucid dream: It is a dream within another dream.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 5

Savagery encased in venom, a dagger in its sheath is politician's speech. They murder us with words, pander us with their flattering and seek to silence our dissent with future comforts they can't provide.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 4

Whatever the words, it is the acts that show their meaning, but all acts stem from words; the words are first, and without them, there can be no acts: The more beautiful are the words, the greater are its acts.

Monday, January 27, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 3

Servants of the State, suitors for government support, servitors for grants, for favors, for permit to life. The conceit of freedom is denied in such a nation, where its people live at a permission and not a right.

Friday, January 24, 2014

State of Silence: Verse 2

Knowledge of surveillance sits upon our every gesture, on every frown; the recognition they know me now, they're onto me. As I've no understanding of myself I'm wondering maybe they know who I am.

State of Silence: Verse 1

Hard knock of gunmen at the door, a state of silence prevails; lights out and a whisper in the dark, the waiting for rush inside: A nation at apprehension and of suppression of speech has been created here. 

Monday, January 6, 2014

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 30

There is no hope for fools. Guns, gold and genius run the world. No nation, absent possession of all three, can rule. When the mean intellect of a citizenry is diminished so is the future of their country.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 29

Shackled to corpses of capitalism, chained to the dry bones of commerce and merchandise, we waste life in spending hours and days in competition; to best each other for more goods and greater dollars.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 28

Them who aspire to be physicians to the world, who pronounce cures for every malady, politicians, are full of cancers of malignity, imposing laws to break the back of enterprise, to make of work a drudgery.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 27

Vow poverty and seek to give yourself a mean life, small and stiff, to be kept cell within a narrow lane. Travelers of time need riches to expand their view; need affluence to find romance; to lead lives wise.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 26

Hear in the fine patter of the rain on the oak leaves first music of what is, kept in time by the shadow of the yew tree; the yew upon the oak playing out old tunes of destiny, song of the coming dawn of Who?

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 25

In leafy patterns of energy, trees spread branches wide in high diffuse; while sucking, while absorbing by green lickings, by turquoise farming, the bounty that's spread upon the blue table of heaven's fuse. 

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 24

Become aggrieved by this nation of zombies; aggravated by this state of fools, allegiance is withdrawn; it's withheld. We owe them nothing, nor do they in their ignorance owe us a thing. We're now for quits! 

Friday, December 27, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 23

Paint music with chords of amethyst. Play on red in violet tune. Pluck the strings of destiny. Every measure keeps beat in time with fate. Every song be short. Drum theme resonate: Fire long desire.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 22

The hard blue sky offers us no consolation, no respite from life, no cover from the winter sun, empty as it is of cloud, void as it is with cold; just vast spill of light and air, promise of the snow still yet to come.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 21

Fill your canvass full of color; make it huge with hue. Seat your vision there in high bright tones. Give it possession of place, immediacy of space; nothing of the minor or mean, but big in sunlight and delight.

Bkue Moon Rising: Verse 20

These crowds that walk the garden paths see nothing of the flowers blooming there, as they leave behind them broken blossoms of shattered dreams strewn along the ways of sightless yesterdays.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 19

Age, by a lessening of insight, by subtraction of mind, slow, subtle, subdued, surrounds each moment, makes contraction more tight, makes it more constricted still; a deafening of sight, a losing of the light.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 18

Downtown sun shines rude light on tarred roofs of the city; smog-spilling slanted brick-red dirty shade of grey-black, laid on asphalt street, laid on escapes of tenements; taunting shadow of danger at noon.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 17

Beneath wet white snow, bitumen black in sagging curve, branches of trees complain creaking weight. Impossible heaviness succumbs a bough. A confirmation shear break happens. A tearing away occurs.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 16

The tars of the past, laid down in the streets of shattered dreams, contained in their cauldrons of asphalt steaming in the cold, ready to be poured upon broken promises, on the gravel of regrets.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 15

Slanted moonlight, from that pale walker in night skies, falls upon a light sleeper. Inherent in his dream is its ending, flowing in a tight ribbon of yellow; as the sleeper, suddenly awake, is refreshed by dream.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 14

Decayed, the rust of this City of the Dead sears and disturbs.  It is a place of no future and no past; no hope, no memory. Nothing can live for long within this desiccation; for love, seek elsewhere than here.

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 13

In the harsh knowing of the blue morning, waking from an unsettling dream, despairing again from the tragedy of living; for what we do and for what we do not, is not what we are and what we can never be.

Monday, December 9, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 12

Not there yet. What wants are there unfulfilled? Are still not gratified? Left to be overcome? Becoming, that shaking span that's life, is but bridge to Being; an arch between what is and what we want to Be.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 11

Four of the clock in Manhattan, the Moon hasn't set as yet, this night still lingers on with you; why this, just this, would so moved my heart; would murder me with love I know not, that's just the way with it.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 10

It is the detours that made us men. Learning is not a straight path, never a broad highway. The byways teach. There is much knowledge in the dead ends. The possible is brought real by the labyrinth of Time.

Friday, November 29, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 9

Critics are a lesser breed of men than they who create. The distance kept apart from they who make deafens them; blinds them indifferent to creation. Those who judge know nothing of what it is to do.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 8

Silent and quiescent, mine enemy lurks within me, a cancer to my soul. It is that which sits dark inside the ark of memory, a resentment and an anger, a steady whispering of rage; stay fast against them all!

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 7

Scummed as they are with the grease of work, with the heavy toil of the soil, from the back-bent turn and twist of lifting shovel; the sweat of labor is their only destiny and remains the sole legacy of hope.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 6

Fell and leaning over to a fall, the toppling marbles and obelisks of time stand neglected; stain as an erasure to fame; weather as plinths to vanished pasts, as monument to the short seasons of fashion. 

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 5

Glowing dark, staring at that sudden sound, in the twilight groan of life, at the sigh of the agony of art; spy change coming on the land to see the hidden dangers there in the shapes of barbarians advancing.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 4

Action in repose, stability in movement, the Sun writes the dawn in lines of yellow gold; wakes us to the sounds of speech of birds in the blue mornings, to brief fervent hymns to life, to chirping melody.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 3

Scavengers for both food and wit, the poor each day share same risk for starvation of sustenance, for a scrounging for the knowledge of surviving; the courage to live is found in cottages and not in chateaux.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 2

Scripts of deceit, the black speech of hate spews forth from the caves of the mouths of politicians; the stinking vomit from diseased brains, seeking power through lies, through their contumacy of banality.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Blue Moon Rising: Verse 1

Hidden behind sage cloud, a blue moon rising high sighs soft radiance in the streaming shadow of an ambient light; bright effulgence contained in the very vanished thing still there, disguised from sight. 

Saturday, November 2, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 30

Still the blood my tempestuous heart. Slow the drum beat of my soul. Our knowledge of our ignorance extends only so far as the outer limits of reason; beyond that outside the gate, lies mystery and magic.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 29

White on white, the vast exchange of love, that void of being, the lust for life; survives and thrives. Secret equations shimmer to simplicity, shining unity; devoid of doubt, empty of desire: All is One.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 28

Hanging there, by gravity suspended, in empty air, their black sails full-wide furled, cruising in space; drones of death circle, awaiting every opportunity to harm and cripple and we are always to be aware.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 27

The bone cage of the skull that contains, that sits and seals and secures the mind, held fast within its box of brain, is best breached by love, best entered by compassion; by charity, pierced and overcome.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 26

Confront your past. Stand fast by the shades of space, solstices, that curve inwards into saddle shape, where time lines of life are converging; that point of connection when ghosts of yourself speak to you.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 25

Hoard close experience and the knowledge of the hard learning that comes from out of a full lived life; the prattling comments of clerics and of professors and of politicians avoid: Live life in your own way.  

Monday, October 21, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 24

By the tentative mid parting aside of the drapes of mortality, the proscenium curtain of the play of life, elicits from dropped veil of silence, action is to be lifted, to be filled, to be acted; with noises of voices. 

Sunday, October 20, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 23

Conflation of dimension, what used-to-be ensnares what will-be, tangled together in time's confusion. Memory is music to mankind. There is a salvation in a song and a satisfaction in a lyric of a fond recall.

Saturday, October 19, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 22

A visible joy is a full gold moon set into the iris of a violet night. This thing that is me salutes it. Knows it and by that knowing, it recognizes me; sees me and it stays me steady here: Moon, amber in the sky.

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 21

Wondrous as knowledge is, without creativity, without real application, without usage, it's nothing; it becomes abomination, becomes sad, disturbing, it becomes dereliction, masturbation of the intellect.

The Shades of Space: Verse 20

Extinction of desire: a celebration of life is soft contained in every slowed breath, in every inhalation, in every exhalation; in and out, out and in, succession succeeding succession in the sure ending of cares. 

Sunday, October 13, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 19

Delusions and deceptions; we've deceived ourselves daily by our dependence on the strictures of our society as to necessity for its continued existence, when all we needed all along was ourselves alone.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 18

Frozen heaven above heavy laden in dark cloud, below though resides invincible summer to remind: were life meaningful, suicide remains a valid option; since life is meaningless, suicide stays absurd.  

The Shades of Space: Verse 17

Much like a great actor shall pronounce a brief profundity within a simple glance, leisure me in the shelter of dream, sustain, succor me in the sustenance of imagination; bring me to brand new day.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 16

Debacle of wit. Crowded with doubt. Can't go back. Can't go forward either. Stuck here. So now what? Fierce resistance to the hammer blow of circumstance frees the will to fight; to seek to conquer death.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 15

In the sleep of reason, ever striving towards the higher sentience of nothingness, on a slow day, the white noise of living becomes mute and calm, becomes silent and low, and the world sneaks itself in.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 14

Tenants in time abide short lease soon to be expired, our brief volcano lives live in the lava of emotion; the telling fire speaks its heat in the flame of the torch of mortality, stating existence: Here. Still here!

Saturday, September 28, 2013

The Shades of Apace: Verse 13

If the heart has its own reasons that the head could never understand, division of heart from head; dream the dreams of sorrow, for this calamity, for this disturbance, caused by this cruel difference.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 12

A ghostly grimace hovers over the mean cruel people who reside in this mean coastal town where the steamy dark waters drown future reprieve in sounds of waves splashing and groaning in melancholy.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 11

Reluctant rough rolling river, driving, spits spuming, coughs downwards, spasms, runs out to the sea. Government of gravity dictates flow, imposes an ideology of rapids, of falls, to an ocean of dissolution. 

Friday, September 20, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 10

A lingering gleam, despite the declining and despite the losing of the light, yet shines but nothing else remains; the closing sight dims, becomes still fainter, finally fading away it leaves, it has disappeared.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 9

With a shrug of shoulders, silence a rented love; good for a short marriage only, a test drive of lust till divorce, its tank of empathy empty, just vapors left, the mileage for affection used, paid for and done. 

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 8

Descend into those dark crannies down inside the deep cave of your unconscious: Revolve right around and reverse your back, and so in courage; Turn to Face the Bear that has always been your hidden Self.

Saturday, September 14, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 7

When driving down the gloomy highway that's life and looking on the way for an all-night diner, and good black coffee in a gaudy place of light, safe, clean, neat and bright; the best desert is friendship.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 6

Pigeons on fire and people falling from towers, into perfect sky of blue, no clouds scuttling anywhere; smooth, azure, a clear untroubled heaven above, indifferent to the bleating suffering occurring below.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 5

It has no quests; has no queries; the River simply cuts and runs; leans into them stone banks and walls to canyon its way out, absent of design to the Sea of Enlightenment; absent of desire, of all attachment.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 4

Descended beneath these blue hills, the gold Moon is full, complete, and is in a form that is of a perfect circle orb so that it's made to be one circumference pregnant with an eternity born to a separate peace.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 3

America is insane but I'm here now and I am alive; blasting green shot through with the emerald deep, holding blazing splendor, resides, rests and sleeps within every shaped blade of grass and yes, we too.

The Shades of Space: Verse 2

Down spattering, the wind is wet and warm, fused within a pale heat; a silver rain melted onto an ivory flame, soft-speckled white, dropping from cloudless sky on late Summer's day: Splash. Splash. Splash.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

The Shades of Space: Verse 1

In deformed dimension, silenced by their grayed bones the shades of space, these long dead are being feasted upon in the ever remorseless, in the forever, unforgiving; in the haunted memory, of the living.

Friday, August 23, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 30

Infinitely delayed, with no chance of a departure yet, just stuck here forever, without a reprieve, no leaving and no hoping of it; spiked shadows of jet air-liners spear into sky absent of any passengers.

Friday, August 16, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 29

A special madness, whole, entire, consuming, is my love. It is making for a present splendor, for a spectacular Now; secure indifferent and safe immune to the ravages and the passages of Time.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 28

Sure wasn't we didn't know, we knew it all the time; that chandelier of light; that gold coin high rung in hung lantern of the night: The Moon; contacted us in symbol and in chant, gave clear warning: Beware!

Sunday, August 4, 2013

A Teason of Images: Verse 27

A zest for life denied: An inscription of death incised in decaying stone are scriptures, statute imposed by a despicable god; a treason of images losing forgotten freedoms from traditions of insipid religions.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 26

Granted this famine pension in the time of want, legacy of a life too long foolish led, existence absent remorse; burning tapestry of desire seizes upon the soul, engulfs senses, to grace our final liberation. 

Sunday, July 28, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 25

For you and me, for him and her, for himself and for herself, for all of us to be fully human; what would it mean and how would it be said, how would it be declared to be stated so this high and heady dream?

Thursday, July 18, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 24

Sleazy, selfish, silly, shallow and stupid, torpid ambition at last accepts, sounding a lazy lassitude, after a deep depression, and comes to an uneasy satisfaction; an acknowledgment of its limitation.

Monday, July 8, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 23

Smooth black mirror, fog-wrapped in white silk; hum of breaking hue, a blind of a yellow glare of an early morning dawn upon the river, somber sinking wet mist glowing gold hanging low, submerged. 

Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 22

Though imprisoned, surrounded, confined, within a zombie nation, we have a high greatness growing inside us that needs a satisfaction and release, a public testimony; lest we waste and forfeit our lives.

A Treason of Images: Verse 21

Ghosts we are! All that is, is but a whistle upon the wind for if Being is all that is not Nothing; then it is Nothing making Being: We are because we are not and even when we are not, we have potential to Be.

Friday, June 28, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 20

Advance and fire. Advance and fire again. Pause. Shuffle step. Weight on the ball of the front foot. Lock step forward. Aim for his balls. Relax the shoulders. Relax the elbows. Drop your hips down. Now. Fire!

Thursday, June 27, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 19

What was always felt but could not be said as forceful nor as well: War makes men worse and they weren't all that good to begin with; for: Love doesn't change just things. Love changes everything!

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 18

They know who you are but they do not know themselves. Signature assassinations and authorized surveillances, with warrantless searches; that's become our modern America.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 17

Vacant, empty of desire, eyes survey the stark night. Still. Despite. Surfeit of delight. Solstice moon of Summer blooms full; a large pink-gold coin, to make for a surety against tomorrow for our yesterdays.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 16

Drown sorrow in the drink of oblivion. Freshen and deliver me from this tribulation through kind kiss of forgetfulness. Bound me down with the bands of amnesia. Free me from the debtor's prison of the soul.

Monday, June 10, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 15

Religion is revelation, not submission: Rope and reins of religion stifle, strangle the garden of dreams that's imagination; all Life leans towards the Light, closes itself away safe and securely from the Dark.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 14

In movement of moon-ark flowing fast, a ribbon of silver spills on ground laid out in bright white stripe across black lands; a night descending cat-current of blooming luminescence slowly stalks and crawls.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 13

There is a gallantry in every stated refusal, in every said negation, in every published public statement of denial; in the very act of protest of submission, as it's the "no" that makes us men and not the "yes."

Saturday, May 18, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 12

Vagaries of soft syllables hiss hot asphalt streets in summer rain. Splashing diamond drops of worries melt in pavement heat. Stormy past escapes in steam. Regrets evaporate warm forget in drowsy noon. 

Friday, May 17, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 11

Declaration of Independence: I am the face of my own word which makes of my own beginning. No god or nation comes before me. I serve no state and owe duty to none but myself and to my own aspiration.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 10

If you seek, you shall never find; for the effort of the will prevents the act of revelation: sleep to know. In any place but this in any hour but now, time to wipe the satisfied smirk that withers away; so relax. 

Friday, May 10, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 9

An alliance of light, a galleon moon in crescent shape of boat, sails its gold ship over a purple sea with rippling waves of spuming revolution white in magic silent night to safe dock at the blue port of dawn. 

Thursday, May 9, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 8

The lettered clowns of Congress and of churches, which preach their coward faiths within their hollow Capital and in their cathedral caves of ignorance, fraud constituents and congregations alike with lies.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 7

Secreted in a state damaged by an absurd cult of capitalism, suicide; that moist obscurity; that sits hiding within an avarice cloud of fog; that lies in staining mist of blood, makes for melancholy mood.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 6

To remain standing upon the sight-lines of immortality, to do is to be. The eye that does not see; the ear that does not hear; the tongue that does not speak, shall never taste of the joys and fruits of life.

Monday, April 15, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 5

Stars are bleeding fast, pouring forth ruby jewels of spit-spiralling blood; their bodies' sleek bungalows of plasma gas mirrors ours of bone and of cartilage in breaking their limbs away from trunks of energy.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 4

Purple-black is the famine of the dark dance lightning strike beneath the storm-blue sea of the hungry cloud, and it comes ever closer; an expense of spirit in a waste of shame is this rumbling rumor of war.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 3

Mellow moods promenade in nights of Spring as the dancing twilight of dusk perform lingering refrain. Sun kisses the horizon in its final setting of purple and of red, bloomed out in crimson melodies of gold.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

A Treason of Images: Verse 2

Poorer and poorer stunt beggars of morality and of memory; dementia governed nation America devolve; the fall of the dark is come again upon the World; the night-sweats come from vision of threatening war.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

A Treason Of Images: Verse 1

The World is lucky to have us in it: Bilious smoke of compromise, treason of images in a succession of smiles, they would keep us from our purpose, deny our destiny; advertisers, promoters, of mediocrity.  

Friday, March 29, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 34

Won't do, won't satisfy, whispers in the dark, smoke of conversation, parody and pastiche of wit, serve to disguise illusion, camouflage disgust; because the delirium of reality becomes much to bleak to bear.

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 33

Media is an anesthesia. It's a dropping off to sleep. Analgesic of dreams, it drips deliberate forgetting, an eager amnesia; slavery accomplished not by iron manacles but by addiction to softness of Internet.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 32

Stalked by our pasts, veneration is real reason for writing; it's expression that makes us men through exorcism of memory, history made renew, each re-telling changes it to make it more adaptable to life.

The Hour of the wolf: Verse 31

Elegance was lost in the arrogance of fashion. Censorship denied, in being forbidden to poke, to speak fun at familiar street apparel a bitter sarcasm prevails; anger shown clearly in ugly dress of the young.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 30

Surprised by death and not content with this strife filled life, a nothingness follows; all contemplation ends and there's no more need for consciousness now for the hour of the wolf has come round at last.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 29

As drink is the great enemy of wit, dependence destroys independence. He who would sit at another's table expects to be poorly fed. Congress seeks to bargain its citizens to sell them to the highest bidder.

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 28

Durable and true, in a magic spherical of return, in renewal after wash of rain, in dimpled beams; a sun's light comes on again, to sweat through heavy cloud, in thick-swept rays of yellow and of pink.

Saturday, March 23, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 27

In respect of seeking shores of distant stars; need no ship to sail on the space to them, but slim imagination, being so enabled to let slip the bands of time to travel far upon the seas of heaven.

Friday, March 22, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 26

Cold breaking day in blue, caste in bronze clouds; bend grass in breeze; freeze dew upon thin stems to jewels, glitter-bright prisms of delight; committed soon to melt in sun in ancient conspire of dawn.

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 25

A blaring interweaving of many muted trumpets calling, the dark burnished frame from the bass drone of the dream within the dream signals a profound danger; a keeping coming back to probability of war.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 24

Lucky casualties of geometry spread in symmetries, celebration of purple amid green; cloud of violent color in violet dominant but here and there splashed in lavender indolence: haze of irises in the grass.

Monday, March 18, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 23

Lavender chain of proofs for Spring, the lilacs in late March are in blushing violet idle, blooming; then a snow came unexpected and sudden and their tallness is buried under in a blue annihilation of promise.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 22

Long gone away, yet still feels so near; allied to everything we say, stated in everything we do, they were a quiet people till were raised to indignation, to rebellion against who would keep them silent.

Friday, March 15, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 21

Heartaches and tears, the long suffering from love that's lost, the lingering stuttering of time's remote desire, the ailing that comes from cruel rejection; serve to conspire in the reveries of deepest memory.

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 20

Ordinary in means of expansion, meager in income of inspiration, the mind is kept only clean by use, by constant scrub of industry; yet solitary expression of Art is compromised, is made confined by poverty.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 19

In the islands of destiny, one day's ride is tomorrow's suicide for it's the sound that's primary and it's meaning that's secondary, as shadow of the body precedes the body; it doesn't come after to follow it. 

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 18

Torpid in movement and lethargic in mind, talking turtle of mundane morality yet another pope of most vapid and banal philosophy was elected and was confirmed by others to speak for us and preach to us.

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 17

Losing hour for love in the twists and twirls of the braided wire of crisscrossed time lines, dreams have dreams, visions have visions, and nothing seems real anymore as the world tilts as it swift slides away.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 16

In black daggers plunging, in an endless falling, in pliant bouncing, falling endlessly in the dark; rain, rain, rain, spitting down, in a singing, stinging, pinging, banging, plague of downpour, a staging rain.

Monday, March 11, 2013

The Hour of the Wolf: Verse 15

Lashing at air, a pale fire is stirring light into flakes of snow, falling slow, falling slow, in glinting drifts of nothingness; quiet is the night and the moon shines silent in the sky and snow is slow falling: Down.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 14

In jack-hammer strokes of white fire on uncovered heads, hail flicks down its knives of stone in storm; as ice-picks of ice, flames in covered malt of carapace, layer in layer, rounded, rolled, tight and spiked.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 13

Travel is an education. The greater boundary of the mind expands outwards by every new experience. A window of noise whispers through the blinds of the passing train; look around you, look around you.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 12

Sail on brave mariners: The sky is our country, an empire of stars steadily expanding and unfinished, a sea not mapped and infinite in shores. We'll be the fishermen there. We'll sweep its oceans of thought.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 11

Under the covers in the midnight hour, going off sides in the small vacation of sliding into a sleep, such dreams come that cast shadows on our lives; still staying savage, long in my memory, you remain alive.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 10

This generation has studied well the grammar of violence, in a martial school that exists in them that graduates a schism that makes for greater separation and divide, in a war that is internal and inside.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 9

In those days of black drapery of mind, when the world may market exuberant despair, smooth, sand away the scuffed hours of care; strike away the minutes of anxiety with long walks in deserted woods.

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 8

In its sentimental sanctioning of dusk, sunset sinks down in clarinet peal of rose bright red to dream a painted sky of melted blue in evening sleep; sudden twill of stars breaks out, woven in velvet tapestry.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 7

Hostage to wind, the color of rain is null, nothing containing a whole of heaven's blank opinion of wet; splashing drop by steady drop a deaf tune from a dead tuning of a tenor guitar upon a deserted street. 

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 6

The ash and the alder who know the silver-grey of moon-light, disguise themselves in far darker cloaks to brood when the heart of the deepest night descends in fainter somber reflection of brown and blood.

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 5

Stars sail swiftly within their settled courses, indifferent to the opinions of radio-astronomers; whom, while in their habit-staring at their many books refuse to look at the beauty which moves above them. 

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 4

Cities, smothered in snow, trapped in gangrene winter, smooth white encasing woe, become hungry in the stillness of solitude, feral in loneliness; yet still shall thrive our life despite blizzard and cruel storm.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 3

The geometry of shadows rests in change. We are such shadows ourselves; lengthening, diminishing in life, in hued coloring from blue to gray, in losing firm identities beneath overhead light of noonday Sun.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 2

The harp of love is plucked by the finger of lust and these twinned tyrannies of each addiction are the same; the blood and iron of temperament decide the issue of the supremacy of two entangled desires.

Hour of the Wolf: Verse 1

In the time of morning before the time of dawn, before the Prussian blue sorrow of first light's coming, be soft spoken and to silence dwindle; go to the breath's slow exhalation for now's the hour of the wolf.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 34

Wanderers in Time, wind, water, wave; we're visitors here, trespassers, not permanent tenants. Least of all can we claim to be the owners of our world; lessees just for a little while: brief short-timers only. 

Folded Guitar: Verse 33

Angry to Be, for an ability to endure; there is the desire for existence. Just as worlds float upon their wide oceans of space, universes float on top of the seas of the large dimensions, trying to create the lives that shall sustain them in their many-colored worlds. 

Folded Guitar: Verse 32

Go. Pad your days with your meaningless ways. A most methodical lover of the eternal Now needs no such distractions; needs no such diversions. He can walk in the untrammeled snows and not be cold.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 31

Seemed causes are but effects: fact and logic wither fast and are dripped away by sordid icicle presence of prejudice in science; splattering away cool reasoning, keeping the holy fragility of civilization alive.

Folded Guitar: Verse 30

Through suffering comes learning: the score of the music showing the dance of numbers is subtle and hidden and may only be read after much practice; discovery is found and fostered in the agony of Art.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 29

Though absurd belief and behavior is domain of creators of religions, in going to midnight after dark so obvious is the debt to be paid to psychotic evening light; blue illumination there seeming absent cause.

Folded Guitar: Verse 28

The burn of the candle in the lantern that fires the mind blinks, sputters and pauses from the battering of white winds brought to bear upon the brain by the blind concussions of the trembling strokes of age.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 27

What change to come; what wonders? Flinch at moaning darkness to come: future's terrorizing. Fight with poetry; with verse, against the nations and religions that sacrifice and eat their children in wars. 

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 26

Mayhem the maelstrom of anguished memories, borne by and carried away over the waterfall strings of folded guitars, poured down to be stirred around; swilled and swirled in the deep whirlpool of love.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 25

Song of the morning chanter of the wrens sing of the remain of a clarity of a tide full-in upon the shore. Let the baleful winds blow high or blow low, the small bird is safe-secure within its tiny house of straw.

Monday, January 28, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 24

Chamber astonishment and carry it at the hip canted forward to be drawn and fired on those harping critics of your life and work. Banish the misfortunes of their intrusive mediocrities with a sniping wit.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 23

Bow lingered lightly upon the cello's A-string, brazen head of mountain covered by the mist, bright beagle baying of the hounds; chance is with the fox to escape the heavy tramp of feet upon the fog-bound moor and bog.  

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 22

The world shocks itself new through poetry's high tension lines, in the found sound of the electricity of discovery spangling down its wire; pinning taught, upon the crossbeam of desire, the limbs of thought.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 21

Hard lands made drowsy by time, lay down in steely sleep of concrete dreams among the stony waters: Time to read the slender volumes of glass skyscrapers of the song of life is short in these lean canyons.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 20

Frost frames the chill of night in a blue lens to give the Moon's light on snow an indigo hue. Everything changes; long white wand of shore turns cobalt in the dark, waves spanking iridescent turquoise upon the sand. 

Folded Guitar: Verse 19

Intimations abound: The growing, gathering storm of war cyclones ever nearer, and the people, who have become more vicious and more savage; ever more desirous of coming conflict, still live beneath its volcano.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 18

Sliding down from a night sky flamed-full of red stars swirled overhead, meteors swift-descend, slicing unnoticed and unremarked into a dead sea, lifeless of swarmed movements; a blank desert in the dark.

Folded Guitar: Verse 17

Semaphore of their coming dance of leaves, buds are spiking on twigs to announce an early Spring. In their green whispers of such birth, the black dream of war seems far away; dread not the night in this dawn of life.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 16

Singing the songs of sedition and playing the tunes of treason, these sighing contagions of confessions that herd-corrals this aberration, contain the celebrations of the citizens for their servitude to the state; to the state's religion of patriotism: None be Free.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 15

Losing identity, becoming a stranger to myself, almost impostor of what I once was, faceless in the mirror of recognition, invisible and unheard in the silent streets of this city; still I shall continue on.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 14

Tiny are those small levers of monotony, those tightening bands of conformity which squeeze dissent from public discourse the puppet masters of chloroform media choose to closely finger and to control.

Folded Guitar: Verse 13

Bandage worry by sentiment of beauty: clear and cold and blue, winter sky skids over us; its flannel azure gauze of light sheds as it heals to make of our common cares of every day, but small frivolities.

Folded Guitar: Verse 12

Transformation of a real and a permanent good into one still higher still, half-moon birthing one of full; burn that wonder of a Constitution to create a new and better convention to make a confederacy of wit and rights.  

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 11

No comfort could be found; nor no stay from care, can be discovered in this lengthy probation of a life. The country devolves. An insurance agency designed for its own degeneration has become this nation.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 10

Hesitate your heart and restore it to its normal beat. Return it back to its slow, sure, steady strum. Fire your charging thrust of lust for life through listening to its changing drum beat of ever-pumping blood.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 9

When walking these long days long in this false Spring; the fragrant fields of color, the fugue filled fields of sound, are fating our miraculous afternoons with their splendors of generous lucky-nows.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 8

A carefree moon in a cloudless sky bellows its nonchalance to us; exclaiming by its dazzling presence in the night through streaming shaking light a dispersal of the heavy fog of worry from off our heads.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 7

Slam-sledge of callused palm upon hard table is the speech of drink and not of wit; the loud foul talk of angry fevered minds. Each time around it's the same hell from small heads spawned in bloated bellies.

Folded Guitar: Verse 6

A fortune squandered which was vaulted and was safe-contained inside those great minds devoured by the frivolities and the seductive fashions of shallow society, can't be recouped and could never be returned.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 5

Maladies abound. Weary and worn, and denatured by many dissolute nights, a sick and obese nation suffers consequence of sloth: physical health of a people is evidence enough indicative of the psychic and spiritual state of a people.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 4

By day we work as mercenaries for others' desires; but at night we become ourselves. So embrace the night tenderly. Sleep brings with it a kindness. Sleep brings with it a coma. Brings an erasure of cares.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 3

Cold religion cheated compassion this full moon again. They that were squeaked into existence as the clerisy of learning, attached as they are to their tenured lives, these teachers of old morality, have no knowledge of the true beauty of things. Broken windows on beaten shuttered stores; old newspapers scuttling down windy streets, are sole heritage of their ethics.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 2

My winter heart is warmed by you. Convicted and confused in collaboration, verse cannot describe nor music imitate the frantic fibrillation that has been forged there in its ventricles by the mere mention of your name.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Folded Guitar: Verse 1

A visitation touch, deft and light; a whisper of fingers slant-sliding along a cheek, is prelude to a kiss. Lips parting smile, a smile too glad to be true, captures your heart. And yes, it just happens that way.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 28

God is the empty set; the set that exists but has No-One, just an absent deity. Sparks ignite even better in the dark; better to trust the god in the head, who creates this poetry, poor as it may be, than the one outside, who stays so silent and is deaf.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 27

Recommended company on the royal highway of philosophy, are street-light eyes, accustomed to the dark; amber torches for seeing into the dark shadows, illuminating the hidden figures standing there, waiting for their turns to speak.

Monday, December 31, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 26

Stating byes, each by his, in setting for his own allotted time and tempo; each one has his solo turn, his own small set to play, an instrument unto himself, before his piece, before his last stop, before his final sign-off ending, comes. 

Thursday, December 27, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 25

A cacophony of spirit, a dissonance in soul; but should I care at all? At least, just this final evening, there is a movement in the dancing indigo sky, in this, the last moon of this month; in this, the last month of this blue year: December days.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 24

These priests and these philosophers know talk and they know how to do it well, but they know nothing of what caused talk to come to be; by the touching of the searching hand of tongue at a distance far, in the famished taste for truth.

Monday, December 24, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 23

Weathered pines snug in the sable warmth of their white wool coats of winter snow. Difference buried by the muffled cotton of the falling flakes, a continuance of harmony is scented in silence there in that holy stillness of the woods.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 22

The coarse encrusted arc of mystic memory is rusted over to make more difficult an attempt escape to fly bold rebellion against the past; to break from off the failed efforts of the mind chains of exhaustion that come from regrets.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 21

This is nation for the old and that's the problem with it; comes you, fountain of every understanding, wash and bathe our frailty. A murmur of the heart has sealed our fate and a new tyranny of fear has replaced the old. 

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 20

Wonderment is it this house of cards, America, which absent any foundation that makes for civilization, should continue; is this then to be its golden age? It's been deeded over to the narrow backs and to the soft hands. Horned callus of soles of feet and palms of hands are unknown to them, to these legatees. 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 19

They, who in their ignorance, claim a power over me know nothing of myself. They would force us, and they would subdue us; they would suborn us too, to use our own ability against us so as to pursue their selfish ends. 

Friday, December 21, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 18

Reason alters all allegiances; for this disturbing muse battles and destroys past faiths and bad beliefs; it bestows a logic and a clarity where none was before, and for this result we give to it our high praise. 

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 17

Destitution orders poverty of spirit to leach our souls. The gravity of income scales us down to make us small. Kindness melts in the heat of desperation. Sanity dissolves, to be replaced by smirking violence.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 16

Sinking into a red bulb sitting upon the horizon at the dying sunset these desolation days hammer at demolishment of me, sapper blasting and exploding away my accepted ways, for all my former lives are submerged by that same sync; they are dimming down within this Blood Sun.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 15

Dead flowers, their closed cups a bone, frosted by dew, stand at a slim-bending tremble on ice-brittled stems, in the wide white coated fields. Among wet standing stones, new carved, the white caskets are being laid in the ground today.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 14

A yellow into a twilight, whenever a sleep comes, these moments in dreams push for their success through the lucid method of the talking mirrors of memories; exciting dawn for their fulfillment, in order to wish to work all our daylight hours.

Monday, December 17, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 13

Pace these city streets. There. Throw down your long shadow, granted by their silver lamps at night. Ground those moods inside of you, the blue and the red of you; that go to shade and that make the purple and the gray of you, together.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

A Tremble in Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 12

Abandon reason. For a brighter later, put away and slip away from out of the cloak of Time. Surge your heart in gallant fight against the dying of the light. Take your mind to flight. Outside of understanding, only in the sensing of the skin; only in the touch, does reality reside.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 11

Cringe and hide your face away; from a bleeding Sun, shooting crimson rays in steep steps descending, spitting red, raining rivers of blood, slicing hard down, in the far falling of fate; for doom is come upon, an uncomprehending Earth.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 10

Wicked burn till return of the rising Sun. The setting of the white-haired Moon serves as a sermon enough for us. There's solace sufficient for the day in twilight hours. The strange bed of the grave waits for sleep tonight.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 9

After such violence, after such long passion; who would wish to distance keep from life the flesh? Who would separate lust from desire? Carpenter and solder those past misty years' aspirations to the clear and present day's soft demonstration of love.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 8

To do Art: Sacrifice the World. Waters and woods serve as holy altars of inspiration and of imagination, not the works of man; there's more of architecture in standing trees than in glass towers built by men.

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 7

Relentless in its surging animosity, an endless repetition of ocean wave splashes on shores, seizing beaches and boardwalks in hypnotic grasp; delaying hearing in a smooth silent mesmeric crashing.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 6

Query not, for there is no response; the high questions seek for their solutions by the greater generation of other questions, in an unending series, in surveying of nature's subtle designs.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 5

Rain splatters against the winds-shields in the cop-car; travelling with its wipers wiping, a neon dream is moving in the evening, probing on the wet, glistening streets, its siren sounding warning in the dark.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 4

Never argue with ignorance; instead voice opinion hard by the fiery stomp and by the rapid walk away; by a rapping loud rejection on wooden floor, at the crudity, at the stupidity of what's termed wit today.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 3

Wrong-folded wings are in constant danger of wind-dance falling failure. Suture and tie your past and your present together. Jester strange desire, the want for tenure of immortality; for timid needful life.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 2

Champion the day in a premonition of forever morning encased and snug set in a band of eternal dawn, singing to the soul of the green and gold of glory, in sweetened honey rays outpouring down from Sun. 

A Tremble In Time: Autumnal Equinox Section 1

Sparks in the dark ignite; to go to make an offering of light between the possibility and the final performance of the action a hesitation resides, in a pregnant pause, in birth beginning by the falling of the hammer, in sinews taught stretched, and then contracted to combine in final downward strike.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 30

Who would grade you, degrades you. Timidity taxes; hides, harasses the in-born natural action of an outbound approach to living life. To comply is to die; so defy! Why walk the long wharf out to...what?

Monday, November 26, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 29

Suppressed by the smell, the stink of blind religion; that makes dark gravity that holds down the light of reason; that grapples, censors and compresses thought, men can never aspire to reach for heaven.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 28

Rain all day, and just too-tired, the blood-fired boiler of the heart gives out; surrenders in final shutdown to the cold, and to the coma, to the withdrawal, and to the long sleep of hibernation.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 27

Short-sleeved Summer soundly sleeps in schools of surrounding rainbow flowers. Sketch and render a slumbering loveliness vision of surrendered smiles of raised hands in living flames' close-studied hues.

Friday, November 23, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 26

By its endless ending that makes of death a suicide, new beginning is signified of an eternal recurrence of renewal; coming Spring the going on with no surrender in a refusal to stop and cease the pain of life.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 25

Heavy in argument but weighed light in reason, furious factions spit anger; though nothing is certain. Possibilities and probabilities float and surround us, remain unseen, ignored, not taken; forever gone.

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 24

Forest floor of religion brambled over, its commandment vines twisted thick by encumbering curves; entangle the feet of genius in obsolete laws and regulations that smother creativity, and so stifle art.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 23

Savage still holding science's sacred ground, in an everlasting standing duel, sharpened edge of the sword of mind sustained throughout, as the world of faith is engaged; to be fought to first blood win.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 22

Black dungeon heart, shut against follies from philosophy's new breeds of men's frivolous fashions of thought; open up. Part the long black veil, and laugh at the foolish faiths men strive so hard to die for.

Monday, November 19, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 21

The forge of fire tempers a heart of steel. Train through pain to gain. That faint forsaken path just off of the dark canyon road of life may only lead on into a wild wilderness of thorns of regret: Take it anyway.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 20

Chimes of discord, making of this evening into frown, in a distant plain complaint, night sounds play sharpened chord in high distinct; sigh and sow and swear and edge the angry wind with discontent.

Friday, November 16, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 19

Rise. Howl down the night to spell the dawn in spilling light. Pierce the clouds of doubt. Rays of consciousness spin-toss through warmth of coming Sun, climbed out from bed of black despair. 

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 18

Banish color from the world and make it sing a simple sepia tune. Leach from it all its hue. Contrast it; high heighten the bleakness of its past from the brightness of its future and chiaroscuro chant of that.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 17

Thinking of trees is in seasons, budding Spring to bare Winter. The tinder of time catches fire late. So bad is its delay, so slow is its ignite; it's good. Lately. Lately. Come you light. Come. Come. Illuminate.

Monday, November 12, 2012

The Long Wharf Out: Summer Solstice Section 16

Weathered stones covered in moss, at annual scheduled ceremony, at grave-sites of veterans of wars; the voices whisper with the tolling of bells their loud regret for lost chance and for wasted opportunity.

Sunday, November