poems

Literary Work of Fox Mackenzie

Disclaimer: The following works are hereby stated to be the original creations of their author and protected under intellectual copyright. They may not be reproduced in any way, including, but not limited to, photocopying, hand written reproductions, cut and pasting from this website to anywhere on the internet, or display of these works in any form without express personal written consent from the author. Additionally, displays with authors' consent must also include acknowledgement in the same font size, and, if said display is on the internet, a link to this site page.

Any inquiries on printing or purchasing prints may be addressed to FoxMackenzie@gmail.com with the subject line "Poetry".

~ A Note from the Author ~

1/21/07 - Welcome. Please know that I am not as snooty as some of these poems (and otherwise, the dedications) make me sound. I write what I feel at the time - and sometimes, I read it a week later and cringe at the presumption and haughtiness in my own words. I'm easygoing - writing brings to me this need to sound somehow better than myself, as if my works are incapable of standing scrutiny by themselves. I do not change it because I made a promise to myself as a poet to let things lay, regardless of how fleeting the emotions behind them. I just wanted to issue a caveat so that my new readers don't think I'm some kind of psychotic drama queen with a pen.

All the titles in blue in the index below are active and published here...just click the title to be brought to that poem. The ~^~ symbol will bring you back to the index. Holding the mouse over the will produce the text of the explanation/dedication for that poem.

Internet Published

*Magnetic Poetry

- Cyclical Retributions (Net Link)

- Diurnal Contrasts (Net Link)

*Espresso Stories - (Full Portfolio)

- Parkway Panhandler (Net Link)

- Short-Selling Newton (Net Link)

- If These Walls Could Talk (Net Link)

*Essays

- ExChristian Conversion (Net Link)

- ExChristian Tract Marks (Net Link)

*Weblogs

- Just Go With It, Random (Link)

- Better Left Unsaid, Various (Link)

- Desiderata, Philisophical (Link)

The Siren's Lament

Once I was a creature, a femme fatale

La belle dame sans merci -

I sang from the depths a sweet song;

A haunting song;

To draw the ships to me.

Once men feared me, feared my voice

Knew who to pay homage to, that

All would eventually succumb to my busom

The sandy sea floor leagues below

Bring gold, brang gold, brought gold

To dine in my afterlife undersea halls

My shining net thrown far across the waves

My eyes were everywhere, in those times -

They painted them on their prows,

On the false wood faces of my figurehead effigies-

In their superstitious hearts, and seaworn souls.

Once I was a creature, a femme fatale

La belle dame sans merci -

I sang from the depths a sweet song;

A haunting song;

To draw the ships to me.

When did they lose sight, lose faith?

I am a franchise now, dwindled down to iconry -

Selling tuna, movies, disney;

My voice is overpowered by the motors through my home -

The ones that slice to pieces my beloved pets -

Dolphins, and Manatees -

Those pets of mine they say must be me -

But those ancient sailors had good eyes;

And I had harsh and wild beauty

More than the harmless-sweet face;

The grey and gentle curves of my faithful steeds.

How dare they make me this -

La belle dame sans la mer, sea.

Once I was a creature, a femme fatale

La belle dame sans merci -

I sang from the depths a sweet song;

A haunting song;

To draw the ships to me.

But soon, my kingdom will return to me -

And they will find themselves unaware.

I have the patience of the oceans,

Those languid titans that melt away continents

That reduce to reefs entire empires

Merely by moving an inch an age -

And while they are trusting their weather machines,

Their radios that squawk like gulls -

Their sturdy fiberglass floating fortresses,

I will emerge.

And they will hear my voice, and fear,

And all their shiny technology,

Can not save them-

From the inevitability

Of myth.

~^~

Breathing Water, Dreaming Sea

I was swimming once, and lost myself in the ocean -

Somewhere there between the waves;

It swayed down to the depths, some unnamed emotion

That, even drowning, saves.

I closed my eyes, and lost all I know-

Spiraling down through vertigo

Seeking my heart, and seeking more

Somewhere on the ocean floor

How hard we fight against the sea-

A force so vast, serene

A catalyst for the winds, when all is said and done

It knows nothing but itself and the pull of the moon.

I know nothing but myself and the pull of the moon.

Only the siren-song in my breast

Only the sea-mist in my chest

Only the gull-cry on my breath

Will I recede, like the tide?

I lay down, spread across a sandy shore

And feel sandpiper nests, and still want more

And sedge-grass sways and grows slowly o'er

Beneath it, I sleep and hide.

My breasts are soft and rolling dunes -

My teeth are shells that shine like moons

My hair grows green, and soon my locks

Are moss against unyeilding rocks

My limbs are bars of endless beach

My fingers, seaweed, stretch and reach

My eyes are drifted wood, smoothed clean

My voice the lull of waves serene

And now at last, I can merely be

The quiet peace of rolling sea.

~^~

The Mermaid's Tale

On the western shores of the western world;

I was conceived in lands of sand and pearl

In plumeria air, where the breezes free

Skated over sand, and the wide Pacific Sea.

Womb-bound, I grew, my mother's daughter

Grew as my land did, surrounded by water

And the paradise-sea, dyed with sunsets, sanguine-red

Seeped up my mothers wading legs, and thus my new heart fed

Until the only air I breathed was what it gave-

Air born on earth, but that crossed the wave!

I flowed and ebbed, like ocean grew,

So that before my birth, I was born anew

On the eastern shores of the western world,

I was born, a blue-eyed naiad-girl,

A healthy water-blue at birth,

They struck me, and stuck me here on earth.

Though at last a healthy shade permitting,

This consession was by no means quitting.

(I had in my heart the restless motion

Of the whole Atlantic ocean)

So I was raised beside the bay

And danced to its melodies, day by day

At night, creeping to the docks

To sing siren-songs, perched on the rocks

And in return, a modest fee-

My eyes settling to the color of the stormy sea,

And a promise that, the world around

I may swim freely, and never drown.

It is a quiet truth, and seldom known

- The ocean will not take its own.

~^~

Celestial Cinder

I kiss you, beneath the stars, my private cliche

Overdone, but it feels so good, so clear

The dark earth smell of the cedars that have seen us

Repeated in youth through ages and ages,

The dew-draped grass sweeps at our ankles-

This sacred moment, when twilight and sunrise kiss,

A pause in time, like midnight on Samhain -

Where the universe collectively holds it's breath

And waits for something magic to occur

I cannot dissapoint, so I make my own enchantment

And I feel the stars, the night, the moon

Sliding over my skin, our skin, like water-

As the pure unfettered hue of dawn tints the horizon

I feel the last touch of your hand as I run,

Racing the sun back home.

~^~

Night, as Voyeur

Ah night, enchanting in thy wiles!

How well you wear your widow's weeds,

How graceful are your nightmare steeds

How well you mask my sinful deeds

Before the morning sun defiles

Those lovers locked in hushed embraces

Those thieves' becloaked and hidden faces

Those lawless acts in secret spaces

You watch with subtle smiles.

And O! The wicked acts committed

And all because your shade permitted!

And you watch with eyes in pleasure slitted

Sin's mosaic in star-lit tiles.

~^~

Quiet Celestial

I am a dim and dying star-

And each night my light doth fail

From a perch both high and far

To piece the skybourne milky veil.

Ah cloud, be not before me this night!

For elsewhere, earthbound lowly..

My love looks up, and I strive to his sight!

As those orbs scan my heavens slowly.

But ah, how plain my stellar glow

Is, tucked amongst my kin-

Their borrowed brilliance that they owe

To those of us who shine within.

And lo, there stands my fickle love..

And his eyes trace not my form;

Dazzled by their cold aloofness, high above,

While my dimness falters, close and warm.

I am a dim and dying star,

And though I strive to celestial fame,

We all must accept who we truly are;

And I am the star of no name.

~^~

Leap

Leap, for we are falling stars;

With tails of fire bright,

Streaking, flaming, brilliant scars

That slice the sky at night.

Such dazzling wounds the void does bear!

Diamonds caught in space-

Transfixed, and hovering, glittering there-

In the velvet darkened face.

And as our lives, in stark display,

Rend cosmic flesh in two-

It bleeds the golden light of day;

And we start the fall anew.

~^~

Crocus

Two days ago, when out for pleasure

I found a path amidst my leisure

And, in my quiet reverie

I glanced aside, and chanced to see

Snow had fallen, an evening past

And cold enough to make it last..

Spring seemed sleeping, far away

Beneath the snow of yesterday

On either side the path was flanked

By knee-high snow in frozen banks

But underneath, (though scarcely seen)-

There struggled the persistent green!

Emerald! In the winter white-

Am'thyst bud so very slight

Had raised its drowsy head too soon!

And ah, alas! This afternoon

Had proved too chill! That icy breath

Had brought the little flower death

But o what strength! That tiny flower

To stand against such awesome power!

And overwhelmed in springless drifts

Still reached across the seasons' rifts

To quietly proclaim, in death

That winter has but moments left!

Here I gave it pause, and knelt -

And with my hands, I gently felt

The snow give way around the grave

For though I came too late to save

I could at least the bud enshrine

Within the snow beneath the pine

Wherein upon it, birds could sing

Praises to the heralds' spring.

~^~

The Silence of the Snow

In this life of vice and sin,

When deafened by the worldly din,

When chaos starts to seep within-

There is a place I go.

And there I spend a quiet hour

On a plain devoid of flower

Beneath the calm of winter's power

In the silence of the snow.

And there, in peace that I had sought,

Some stolen moment, nature-wrought,

Shows me all that I have taught!

And all that I could know.

And of all the worldly goods I've earned-

And the many mortal years I've turned

All I recall is what I've learned

In the silence of the snow.

~^~

Language Barrier

I converse in the languages of love -

The poesy of silent speech

The volumes of a darting glance,

The cantos of a fleeting touch

The rythym of a quickened pulse,

I know all these and more.

I speak to you in wooing tones,

Smooth and flowing river-stones-

Gentle words to gain your hand,

Soft sussurations, no demands

I offer all myself to you

In hopes to make my words come true.

I speak to you in hushed devotion

Of celestial bodies, set in motion,

That shall serve to mark my sacred oath

That no force on earth shall take us both

Away from here, or into harm,

And eternity is in my arms.

I speak to you in language lust-

That husky murmur, after dusk

That winds languidly around the heart

And heated whispers there impart

So heat and fire there do mesh

To speak in tongues against the flesh

And yet for all these learne'd vox-

I still find thy heart a cold fortress,

My voiceless declarations frozen

Before they reach your core-

And, like a myth, I fade softly down

Echoing your narcissim.

~^~

Pledge to Me Only

Love is like a candle,

Or a rose in sudden bloom-

There is beauty in a moment,

But a moment dies too soon.

Love should last forever

But lives only in an hour-

And we are left with memory

Helpless in the power.

Love is like strong vintage-

So strong one cannot think-

How foolish drunk are we, then

When we still reach to drink!

When we raise our glasses up on high

Bittersweet the painful draught-

When, tipping cups, we think of fore

When we should think of aft!

~^~

Une Baiser

In a sudden moment's languid climb

Hesitation slipped from me

And, spurred to commit a passioned crime

I grew bold! And stole from thee-

And, doing such, startled both you and I!

And in a wide-eyed moment of disbelief

You murmured something, some soft cry-

And surely it was 'thief!'

You caught my arm, in gentle grasp

And held it, in possession

(Tho it seemed a warmer clasp

Then one wont for a confession)

And I broke free, and heard my name

And glanced back to see your smile

My cheeks were ruddy, perhaps with shame?

Or want to steal again, for a while.

And, for such thoughts I deeper blushed,

While I had broken away and free-

And yet hoped secretly, as I rushed

That you would steal from me!

~^~

The Ballad of the Angél Tombeé

Some reach for lofty perches high

An angel to procure

To hold and have! And still yet, I

Choose from amongst the sure.

I am not of comely grace-

Though my heart is just and loyal,

My love has a fallen angel's face

And his hands are rough from toil.

I bear the scars of life and love

And so does my intended!

We both have tumbled from above

And quietly, have mended.

And so while our weary hearts still feel

And our spirits still can hover

Broken wings mend, and hearts do heal

And he shall be my lover.

~^~

On New Years Eve

The elder speaks, this dusky eve -

Premonitions of an age to be!

His prophesies are well-received

Of fantastic things to see.

No age burdens that visage bright;

Rosy-cheeked and full of cheer,

The master of this fateful night!

Hark! The hour grows near..

There! Above! A comet flaming!

Ah, and so this age shall die..

The final moment comes, renaming

Our threads of time with scarce a sigh.

Such flash! Such fire! It falls to earth!

And the crowd does give a roar;

The new age flickers into birth-

The old age, silent, evermore.

A kiss betwixt those fateful two,

I stole, with merry jest

That single kiss I stole from you,

Caught unaware when lips were pressed.

How strange such a vivid sign,

Should pass, and not be missed-

I remember nothing of that square of time,

And yet each moment, that we kissed.

~^~

Untitled, with thanks to Allan

How strong a beat beneath thy breast;

And yet I heard it skip and start-

When my gentle ear there pressed

To listen to thine heart.

How strong a voice in which thou utters-

Bold, and knightly true!

And yet I hear it fail and stutter,

When my lips are pressed to you.

How swift and sure thy step and sword-

When foe should seek to strike..

But you stumble at my simple words;

My voice, and song alike.

So hard you fight against thine foe-

For faith, and honor, and to be free;

Valiantly, to ne'er be laid down low-

And yet how swiftly you lay with me!

~11/23/02 *Allan, a fellow poet, spurred me to compose something, and this was the result. It's about the female influence on male bravado.

~^~

Sonnet 1 - Ramirez (Julio)

He moves like water, as it flows;

The liquifaction of his pose-

Fluid ebbings, tides of seas-

Fingertips in raindrop symphonies.

He moves like fire, as it burns;

Flint to steel with each small turn,

Expression near to conflagration-

A candle-flame of sheer elation.

He moves like air, soft and free,

A whirlwind of the memory,

Poesy of silent speech

That touches all within the reach.

He moves like earth, solid, true

Sheer artistry in olive hue-

His dance, like wine of vintage rare;

Is much enjoyed, and past compare.

And when he moves, the heavens weep

Such beauty for to see-

The world can dance, when in his trance;

But what he moves the most...

Is me.

~^~

Untitled, (for Vince)

He had hands. Artists hands.

With spidery digits he wove my soul..

painted my mind..

sculpted my body anew.

Sweet pygmalion of eternity

Who has made me his muse..

I shall pose like rivers over stones..

Smooth, musical, and flowing..

Let me quench your thirst.

Draw me wings, and I can fly..

I am your living canvas..

Stretched across the sky.

Neverending.

Never beginning.

Always there.

Unknown.

Unseen.

Create me.

~^~

Untitled 2 (for Vince)

Wren among falcons;

Still you sought me among

A forest of feathers in flight..

Strained your sweet deep eyes

For a fleeting, darting glimpse

Of the one so plain

Among the many so fair.

Mighty never, loyal ever

Perhaps you know the secret

Of the heart beneath the plumage.

The fires of the world are carried

In the tiny rapid heart..

And boundless is the void

In the breast of the falcon.

Soar with me, and one day..

You can sing my song.

~^~

Love, as Expressed by the Elements

You are the fire in my heart;

The burning flame that joins the parts-

That crimson flicker of passion derived,

And the hopeful strength it keeps alive.

You are the waters of my mind,

And the seas of worlds it dares to bind;

The intuition it has wrought

To let me sail the streams of thought.

You are the body of the earth and land,

The sturdy base on which I stand,

The dark riches of the fertile soil,

That let me live by honest toil.

You are the soul of puckish winds,

That whisper tales of where I've been;

Of wild flights of fancy free,

Of where I've been- and where I'll be.

You are my being, and my power,

That shows me truth in fateful hours,

The mystic magics of all unknown;

The loving hand that shall guide me home.

~^~

Affectionate Destruction

I love you like a sudden storm;

In lightning crashes that illuminate like ephiphanies

the stark landscape of the soul,

striking down ideals that stand too high, too proud

Humbling me from the inside outward.

I love you like the sea-wave;

That rises without reason, pulled upwards by the moon

That churns and stirs the sleeping sea-bed

The sleeping dog,

That reminds that chaos bore us,

and that it is to chaos we shall return.

I love you like the hurricane;

When water trespasses onto land-

Bringing madness to the order of the soil-

When unseen hands destroy walls built by real ones,

When nature reminds her children of herself,

And man realizes he is far from master,

Of his land, of his heart.

I love you like the raging flame;

That consumes all in it's path -

Reducing it to the ashes of beginning-

For no false creations can stand death,

We are all phoenix, in matters of the heart;

And we all must brave the flame

To find the truth.

~^~

Lament on Corbin

Sadness is around him, like dusk a sunset covers

And in the half-heart of his smiles, a certain regret hovers

I lay his head upon my chest and, to his breathing listen

Half expect his lashes with unshed tears to glisten

I give myself to his void, and yet my shining light

Is not enough to quell, dispell, his neverending night

I know not what here transpired that dimmed his eyes, or how

I know not what ills here conspired to lay fever on his brow

Hunin, Munin, my gentle muse - which ever you may be

How quiet now, do you exist...what is it you see?

What memories against your heart this havock wreak?

What future lacks so o'er much, to make your face so bleak?

Cast off thy mantle of ink-black plumes

And linger here inside my room

Close thy eyes of souls so deep

I bid you only here to sleep-

I will not ask what you have known -

I close my eyes, and see your own.

And so I will guard thy soft repose,

And ask not where the future goes.

~^~

Silver Bullet

There was a reflection, once.

I pushed my hand through, expecting water, and found only glass.

Harmless ripples should have reformed me.

Yet I shattered into fractal shards, sharp as knives, cold as ice.

I stare at the empty space where I used to be.

To knees, to palms, regressing, devolving.

Lupine stigmata on the pieces of myself.

Head hung, I see my eye - blue here, but now amber.

I push uselessly at the pieces, forever mangled, unconnected.

I cry, but all that issues is a canine whine.

~^~

Coitus

Endless movement towards eternity, here in my room

The quiet stillness when the fire dies between he and I-

He is himself again, but something of myself is lost inside that

And I feel my voice thicken with unsaid words as he dons his mask

His costume, and I wonder-

If skin is just another costume-

If I am just another act-

Where this scene will end? I know..

As I have known the many before this moment.

Some proverbial kiss, some ritualistic rite-

As I clutch the bedclothes to my chest,

Left here, alone,

With the night.

~^~

Banked Embers

I spoke with you, a night ago

And shared quiet recollections

Of a life we used to know

In nostalgic soft inflections

I could almost hear your saddened smile

Regretful for the past

We spoke of old times for awhile

And how time goes by so fast-

Once I was your guiding light

Your soul, your heart were free!

Untouched by harm, untouched by blight

And all was well, when you had me.

Once I was young and fearless!

And there was nothing I could not do

My feats, my thoughts, my words were peerless!

So long as I had you.

Now we have new loves, apart -

And time still finds us friends..

But though we are in each other's hearts-

These pasts, these thoughts, can never be again.

~^~

Hope's Lament

I saw happiness beckoning me to come

Smiling coyly and whispering soft

And so, I wandered, dazzled dumb

By the sparkling promise it held aloft.

The closer I got, the smaller it seemed

And slowly, my joy would ebb -

And the casual cruelness smirked and beamed

And transfixed me in a glassy web.

And here I sit, in wicked prism caught;

Shallot in a tapestry of sin-

Surrounded by everything I had sought-

But always outside, and looking in.

~^~

Sonnet 2 - Marco

Death, sweet death of deep brown eyes-

How clever is thy ruse!

The end of all, in beauty's guise!

Darkened mirror of a muse

Candlelight to sun replace,

Eternal night so fashioned,

And shadows coil at languid pace,

Around my heart empassioned -

And my spirit struggles free,

To shuffle off this mortal coil..

Each eve, to thus belong to thee;

And remain as such, forever loyal.

~^~

Painted Afflictions

The colors of my nightmares seem

So real, so close, inside my dreams

Of restless crimson battle-scenes

Against a granite sky -

Where phantom faceless soldiers fight

In jade(d) camera-filtered night

Where bombs, like stars, explode in white-

And, slowly greying, die.

Olive drab on marching masses

Patent black of boots, in passes

By shining steel of wheelwell flashes

In glaring gold of desert noon

Some endless army marches on

The khaki dunes they've fought upon

With native blood now tinted fawn!

The hues of the platoon.

And another evening's onyx might

Still cannot still this ceaseless fight

That, in lighted flares against the night

Steals my sleep away.

And, colored with the shade of fear

Indistinct, yet vivid here

Inside a shifting silver tear

I lay awake, and wait for day.

~^~

A Political Primer

See Dubya. See Dubya speak. Dubya is fearless.

(I hear camp david is lovely this time of year.)

Oh no! We have been attacked! We must fight back.

(Bandwagon patriots would be a good name for a rock band.)

See Osama. See Osama run. Where is Osama? Dubya can't find Osama. Silly Dubya!

(I hear people sometimes fish with tnt.)

Who is Osama? See Hussein. Hussein is bad. Where is Hussein? Dubya can't find Hussein. Silly Dubya!

(Wag the dog was an excellent film.)

~^~

Nightmare Dreaming

The world slams back into focus, bright and harsh

And I struggle upright, swiping at my eyes

The disembodied wisps of my horrors

Clinging to my face like a broken spider web

That tangles and winds the more it is dislodged.

My heart's tattoo dwindles down in time

And the pounding in my ears becomes a mere whisper

I turn over my pillow, to find the cool dark side

And, laying my cheek upon it,

Close my eyes once more,

Disturbing images still dancing-

On the edges of my consiousness.

~^~

Dust of the Dead

I returned last night to a place I had never been to, but knew far too well.

It was cold, and the natural night darkness shattered by harsh white lights -

This empty space, this barren place reminds me

Of nothing so much as road work on some 3am morning

And on the steel girder fences hang the signs-

Historical, informational, an outdoor museum, once removed -

And with intellectual indifference, the burgundy on sepia informs me

Of everything I already know, and don't care to know again.

In the center of the cement circus, a single girder looms -

A cross in iron - ancient ward against fairie magics;

And I am unsettled by it - what of other faiths, here?

The wind picks up and howls its chill across the void -

I gather my coat to me and cling tighter to my companions arm.

I breathe deeply, and the hurt swallows my lungs.

I am breathing the dust of the dead.

I look up and see the lights blur into sad impressionism-

From this impression on me.

And I realize I am crying.

Not because I am patriotic.

Not because I lost someone.

Not because I am angry.

Simply because I am human, and this is too much to bear.

And others walk around me, this midnight, pointing at signs and picture-taking,

And I want to shriek and fly at them, even in my grief.

I hate these fences, and I hate these people -

Walking, talking, as if this were tourism

And I realize that I am the only one crying here.

I never stopped grieving for the people I never knew.

Until tonight, I never knew I started.

Two years slid by while I kept on living, and I start with guilt -

I am cold, and crying, and I just want to leave...

I want to let it become a national cause again

And not my own personal grief.

My tears are fresh with guilt, for wanting to fly from here,

For wanting to put this scene at my back

And run until my lungs ache

From breathing the dust of the dead.

~^~

Armani, 3:31

Jesus Christ is strolling through manhattan-

Scheduling the end of days on his palm pilot

Little chik-chik-chik and there goes our civilization

Right after his 8 o clock with Dad at starbucks.

His hair slicked and pulled back smartly-

His eyebrows plucked, and perfectly manicured hands

Barely keep that tiny scar from that nasty business on the hill.

His briefcase gleams, Afternoon sun glints on a monogram-

J. H. C.

And what are souls but corporate assets- some bottom line ethereal..

Some corporeal corporation that settles accounts here among us,

Infinate numbers, all the same in value, continuing endlessly?

Ours is not a loving god, but the P.R. department in purgatory is phenomenal

You wouldn't believe what they could sell to who.

And J.C. takes the subway to greenwich village,

(The battle of good and evil actually takes place in a bondage boutique)

And there he meets a woman in red, heel-clicking corporate bitch, and beautiful

Loveless yuppie air-kiss, let's get this going, (business) cards on the table.

And to the right of the handcuff display

The two greatest forces in existence are doing lunch-

Between them sits a piece of paper with two newly glowing sigils.

The mother of all mergers just went through.

~^~

To Adam

You bear her sin, my gentle muse

And in your eyes displayed

The fruits of innocence, barred from use

By the sins she made.

A different time, a different hour-

Another love, long lost

A different god, of different power

Proven, at what cost?

A phantom touch across your skin,

A faint and dying ember!

Cold, and hungry, draped in sin;

Now, do you remember?

How happily did those eyes shine-

When I took my place above you...

Cast down! When you were all but mine-

Banished! Because I loved you...

You bear her sin, in this cold hour;

And wear your pelts, in shame;

And you ache for me, in all my power,

And, blaspheming, cry my name.

Lilith!

~^~

Blinker Ballad Signal Song

Paused before the ruby light,

Another car within my sight -

I listen to the steady ticking

Of my indicator's clicking

And tap an idle counter-beat

Lightly, with my resting feet

A moment more, I'm apt to feel

My hands begin upon the wheel

A barely-present gentle rapping

With my thumbs, their tips a-tapping

But a second more, and my elation

Turns rapidly to irritation

The car before me let its blink

Flagrantly fall out of sync!

And my rhythym, thus disrupted

Cries 'Vengence!' 'gainst that light corrupted -

So, brazenly, I cut ahead-

Let him suffer mine instead!

~^~

Two Poems For Andre

(The Car)

O, car! Woeful are thy mirrors broken -

What horrid act? What crime unspoken?

What dread chariot shattered thy glass?

What fool, on ice, had tried to pass?

IIf only thee had braked, or slowed!

And missed the black guys in the road ...

And now I weep, in mournful state -

My pen had missed offending plate.

(Sprite, As Muse)

Ah sprite! My gentle muse within this shape -

How you quench my thirst, and slake!

Silver cylinder of pure perfection -

You remain my favored drink selection!

Ah, sprite - what heav'nly god has sent thee?

I feel so full, yet you are empty.

~^~

Ode to a Pen Cap

"The mighty pen does best the sword,"

Is every writer's core belief -

We praise the crafter of the word,

But what of the martyr sheath?

The sacred point it does protect,

O, how we praise that tip within;

But o, the pitiless neglect

We inflict that plastic skin!

Thrust into our pensive maws

Crushed by jaws and twisted taut-

Snapped and broken, all because

We merely lost a train of thought!

And when it ceases mortal breath,

And this living world has quit,

Undignified in trash-can death,

It ends its life entombed in spit.

~^~

Money Laundering

Tell me dollar, if you will

Do you find some secret thrill

When you tumble wetly with my clothing?

Is it single joy, or single's loathing?

Do you frolic in that frantic spray,

Or do tides of tide toss you astray?

Do cleaning currents keep you busy

Or do you just get very dizzy?

What dark thoughts do I inspire

When I toss you back into my dryer -

What actions cause you so much hurt

That you ball your lint upon my shirts?

~^~

In Vino Veritas

Truth Serum pressed inexorably from the fruit of the vine -

that which provokes dangerously absolute disclosure and lack of inhibition

not only from direct imbibement, but from it's mere presence.

I cannot love you, poison, you who have turned the hands of men against me -

the hearts of men against me.

Red as blood, clear as broken shards of glass in the rain, amber brown of muddy pools, dirty and unclean.

You have raised hands to strike me, touch me and hate me -

how many more chasms can you open between me and my life?

The ghosts of drunkards haunt me - how can any man be so awkward and slurred

and still strike an unparalleled fear in my heart, which is in all other things strong?

How can such incapacitated (and now faded) villany

continue to force my spirit to curl, years later?

I do not drink you, and yet you destroy my spirit from without,

when you cannot reach it from within.

~^~

Invictus Eternal

Out of the night that covers me

Black as pitch from pole to pole

I damn whatever gods cursed me

With this suffering and deathless soul.

In the fell clutch of fate and chance

I have screamed my vows aloud-

To the deafened ears of circumstance

To death, the ever-proud..

Beyond this place of endless years

And the blasphemies I've bade

I drown in lakes of sinner's tears

And vanish, vanquished, to a shade

It matters not how straight the gate-

How filled with names the firey tome-

I fold my wings, and kneel to fate

It is the only path that I know home.

~^~

On Empty Vengence

I dream of thee, my faithless love...

And listen for your voice

Who have you been dreaming of?

Why am I not that choice?

Demure to capture roving eyes

Sweet to steal the breath

The trap is sprung! The quarry lies!

Entangled in the net.

The falsehoods that to me you told

Had rent my heart asunder

Are now avenged, and yet how cold,

My heart is, amidst the thunder!

Woeful day! The circle turns;

Bootless cries for truth!

I miss thee, my faithless love,

As I miss my stolen youth.

~^~

A Collection of Verse from sub to Dom

I am fire, quiet flame

Left to flicker without name..

Left to lap at nothing else..

Left to silently consume myself..

I am kindling, softly crackling..

Embered soul softly snapping..

Exhume me, consume me..

And kindle my flame..

Stroke me and stoke me..

And whisper my name..

Name me and claim me..

And set me to task..

Pet me, and let me -

Do what you ask -

My head is bowed, my words unspoken..

My courage cowed, my will is broken..

My eyes are closed, respectful ever..

My heart is open, disdainful never.

I have been in bonds of leather, and metal fastened tight..

And flogged til sense has left me, along with the will to fight..

And though knots and ties and floggings all hold a special thrill..

Nothing holds me, and nothing folds me..quite like a Master's will.

~^~

Dark of the Party

The room is pitch, and strobed in white -

And dazzled with what makes glowsticks glow..

With whatever makes these people go..

Chemicals unnatural or otherwise..

Secondhand like a nicotened london night -

And through the dark, they are entranced..

Caught in some unholy dance -

With various kinds of ecstasy in their eyes.

It is a singularly sinful sight..

These vampires and deities -

Shimmering latex, on their knees -

Drinking liquor drugged with lies.

~^~

On Wings of Vengence

I am an angel of darkness

With wings of snapping flame-

Hellish light against the starkness

Of the path from whence I came

The world is a burning ember -

I grasp within my hand;

Histories that I remember

Burn me like a brand.

The birth and death of ages

Have passed before my eyes

I have heralded the truths of sages

And rebuked the fools of lies

I am the Phoenix, lady of fire

And against my nurturing breast

I lay kindling of a funeral-pyre

And therein make my nest.

My flame is spent, and flickers lowly

My heart dwindles down to ash

I feel the heat eclipse the cold, and slowly

My pain, my loss - has passed.

~^~

Delilah, Revisited

Sitting behind me, he softly talks

And gently brushes through my locks

With the reverent care men only bring

To their most beloved things -

So lifts he in lightly callused hands

My delicately drifting strands

Though no different they from all my ilk

He handles them like thailand silk

Brushing glances o'er my head

And smiling at my ruby threads

He leans to press his kisses there

And braids his love into my hair.

~^~

Fourteenth on a Rose

My love for you is like a rose,

That with each passing day,

Slowly, softly, surely grows

In nature's bright display -

And with a certain subtle skill,

Its thorny limbs all twining,

A broad expanse its body fills

And whispers in its binding,

A thousand lips of ruby red,

Murmuring of wishes

Rising from their earthly bed,

Promising a thousand kisses.

Though these flowers, mortal, fade

And winter's breath oft sets them free

These are flowers that my heart has made

And shall live and bloom as long as thee.

~^~

Veritas

Heathen child, o the energy

Found in you, twisting like the dusty dim

Of filtered stormy sundark in late afternoon

Patchouli incense that permeates the walls

That rises from the ill-swept floor

Ancient scents that linger

Ghosts of rituals long past

In your youth, an age unnumbered

I watch your grim determination

Pull the years to you like scarves

Winding them around your body

Borrowed knowledge, arcane and precious

I do envy you, for I believe

That, though further from heaven

In height and life,

You are, o newborn spirit,

So much closer than I

To the divine.

~^~

Philosophical Reflections on a Funeral

Demanding, commanding, church-bells toll

In sunday best the masses travel

Driving, flying, through the night

All across the darkness, here they stole

In sunday best, their wealth a-dazzle

Earthly reflections of ethereal light

To the church, now they travel

At the ending of the night

Where some rich old aunt adjusts her stole

Atop a nearby pond a sunbeam-dazzle

Goes full unnoticed, as unowned light

Prosperity can take its toll

Pause. Within a soul, sometimes night

A drifting heart has leapt and stole -

With superficial whispers, it will dazzle

ZThe wand'ring mind away from light

And takes soft innocence for a toll -

And, vice into void there does travel

Church-quiet, death here stole

A shelf, shell upon an altar made to dazzle

Colored through with stained glass light

Now a call for tithings, spiritual toll

Perversion of Charon's fare, to travel

Across the rivers of the night

And now the preacher's words will dazzle-

To this flock, contrasting brimstone and light

His voice rings false, the church bells toll-

O'er his sermon on heavanward travel

Some weak prayer against the strength of night

(A final blow to ancient faiths they stole.)

The day softly fades; away the light -

The sun takes moon in parting toll

Across the sky, the witches travel

Milk across the ink of night

They gather galaxies for a stole

On fair throats, celestial stars dazzle

Blessed are those who fear no bell-toll

Who fly alive, need no death to travel

Who gather to dance in moonlit night.

~^~

Ballad of the Pong Ball

What am I but a pixeled ball

Helplessly thrown from wall to wall

Rapid, frightened, and 8 bits small

With no time to rest or sleep?

One false move of a deities' dial

And, plunged in darkness for awhile

Endless silent ebon mile-

I ponder the profound deep!

Thrust back into the round and round

Against a ceiling, now the ground

All of life in three short sounds-

Boop. Boop. Beep.

~^~

Facing a Cup O' Noodles for Dinner

on a Wednesday Night

Folding back the paper lid,

I am almost sorry that I did

For there, I see beneath that peel

A barely-should be could-be meal

Crags of crumbs, supposed beef

Masquerade as things to eat

But fail quite badly at their task-

What cows bore these, I dare not ask.

Shriveled corpses of long-dead corn -

These 'kernals' I must meet with scorn,

Not baked, or cooked, or simply dried

These dreadful things were mummified!

The noodles look, at least to me

Twisted in some cup-shaped agony -

But I suppose I cannot fault;

I'd do the same in that much salt.

Hot water poured, the soup awaits,

Too uncivilized for dish or plate -

But hungry, I am now enthralled,

I am in college, after all.

~^~

Junk Drawer Ode

O drawer of ends and odds forgotten

Your halves of sissors with hinges rotten,

In shaky-tracked and crowded space,

For invaluables, misplaced -

You whose sticky, dusty floor

Leaks metric screws from every pore!

Where open, crusted glue takes root

In dried-up markers, rendered mute,

And chinese menus, out of date

Enfold a shard of broken plate

And ancient flashlights, colored puce

Hold batteries decades past their use

By change too spent to ever glean,

Caught with candy to a magazine...

Oh noble drawer, just let me say

Thanks for keeping this at bay!

~^~

Contingency Planning

I find my dreams folded into spaces

Condensation-damp beneath a water glass

Verdant green under dusty chrome boxes

Weighted beneath a plate as if

a strong breeze could blow my dreams away.

Change towards change scattered, silver-bright

Across a scarred and pitted table,

I pluck my future from jam and coffee spills

Buying hope in strained smiles and extra 'slaw

With false 'hun's and 'sweeties' a thousand times a day

At day's end, I fold my single hopes together, and take comfort in the doubling illusion.

~^~

Makeshift Artistry

(Notes) on a napkin, (like) a stain from my mouth,

These (ink) smears from my fingertips -

Ruin this former blank white (canvas) space;

I crumple up my leavings (work)

And leave them to slowly drown in my saucer

Weakly soaking up my tea (fuel) as if to gain

A (literal) life of their very own.

With a sigh, I silently admonish,

"You wouldn't last very long out there."

~^~

Ever After

A chapter after the final page

Blind nightengale sits in a gilded cage

A dun colored bird

and its warbling dirge

That shows no cease or age

A chapter after the final phrase

At a tower window, the maiden stays

Her hair is shorn,

her eyes are worn,

And cannot count the days

A chapter after the final word

His charger's bells no longer heard

The knight rides weary

With rheumed eyes bleary

His gallant youth all blurred

A chapter after the final verb,

An enchanted cauldron moulds, unstirred

The old witch eyeing

Her herbs all dying

In birth-soil all interred.

Eight eyes turning, a painful yearning

As the endless night howls and cries

Sharpened stars glisten;

And celestially listen

With a death-rattled silence of sighs -

The book split, open

All loss of hope, then

And begins the hellish whine

The imp-child pouting

Trembling lips mouthing

Oh mother! Please read it -

One.

More.

Time.

~^~

The Ballad of Lactose Intolerance

My stomach is expanding, demanding now of me

Cessation of consumption of this tiny slice of brie!

Barred from taste, I'm longing for a teacup filled with cream

O what a waste that ice cream is a mere and distant dream!

Milkshakes, horrid mistakes, As their violent names implied

Oh, monster that is munster, what you wreak on my insides!

Forgive me, tummy, for this lucious yogurt-laden sin

For I know it's not as pleasant coming out as going in!

~^~

Flotsam

There is an island in uncharted waters

That is robustly peopled with those

Whom I have once cared for-

They while away the hours, never a moment older

Though years come and go;

They speak only of my beauty,

My wit and wisdom -

My amazing lover's prowess

And how terribly stupid they were

to give me up.

Once a day, as one,

They all turn towards the east

To stare longingly at the sea

And wait for me to return.

~^~

New Orleans

Gritty, bright - dusty trumpets and wrought-iron quarters;

O city who hides her gardens, verdant and lush

Behind bricks and metal scrolling,

Debutante hiding her charms behind mardi-gras finery -

Coy and sultry as an August night.

Music and the Mississippi swirl in your wake

Gathering lovers to your parti-colored breast

And laughing till your white teeth show.

Dance til dawn, silky shoes in tatters

Gris-gris beneath the pillow, cross above the bed

You're wearing masks even as you sleep.

~^~

Canopy

Trees care not for men, howe'er good;

Those ruddy beasts who scuttle underneath

That live and die in sapling's childhood

Deep in dark of ancient wood

This shade by fairy realms bequeathed

Trees care not for men, howe'er good

Maples speak of stolen sugared blood

Bitten out with metal teeth

That live and die in sapling's childhood

Mourning losses as they could,

Oaks murmur deeply of barren heaths

Trees care not for men, howe'er good

Across, where ghostly aspens stood,

No memorial, no blooms or wreaths

That live and die in sapling's childhood

And axes ring where reverence should

Where destruction storms in lightening woods

Trees care not for men, howe'er good

That live and die in sapling's childhood.

~^~

The Key to Room # 121

The smell of tiny soap and fresh starts

Of washed linens and dead-bolted slumber -

Of watching Spanish women that glide like wraiths

To fold the ends of toilet tissue

Into tiny, perfect triangles.

I control the drapes, the sheets, the television;

This is my domestic womb

From which, come morning, I shall emerge

Instinctively seeking out the breast

Of continental breakfasts.

I will steal barefoot across

These carpeted corridors

Like a child indulged.

And then, with my stolen horde of breakfast foods

I have smuggled back across an elevator border,

I will lie, half-clothed in this naked bed

And watch cartoons.

~^~

For Him, At Last

The years have come between us;

And I smile indulgently at she-I-was

As she holds hands with the you-that-was

And never sees a thing but perfection.

I turn to the us-that-became, laughing

At the nicks and cuts, all shallow

The tiny battles that raged uselessly

That burned up like paper blown onto the sun

With time, I have not stepped forwards, but backwards

And see our love not as a gentle twilight

But a glorious, glowing, wide-as-the-world flame

Rising in the east.

Too often I have looked on sunbeams, love,

With eyes for the arrow, not the bow

As fools each day praise blooms of love,

Their whole lives blinded to the root.

~^~

Off The Block

When I'm doubled over in pain,

would the stain of my veins

as they strain to contain

the words that I think turn to india ink?

Would I bleed Rorshak tests

if fingers pressed a pen possessed

by hyperbole and simile, by imagery

that never rests?

And if, by my advice,

that paper, folded twice

were to yield a phrase concise

is it worth my sacrifice?

If it was, and I make a paper plane,

would I be called insane

to be folding up my brain?

If I were, by choice, to throw my voice

to teach where it can't reach?

If someone caught it on the fly

and brought it down to spy

is that message one they'd buy?

Or would they think my scribbed ink

is just haiku origami gone awry?

~^~

May

She is drenched in migrations

That course and weave like ocean currents

Bright brilliant monarchs, sleek porpoises

And horseshoe crabs that crawl slowly by her feet

At her fair neck, the diamonds lay

Like drops of frozen water, sea-polished

And her hair is streaked and flecked with foam

And she smiles brighter than the sun on crests

She gathers up her pastel castles,

Her sandy footprints and stray cats

And gently sings a wave-tossed song

Unrivaled throughout isthmuses.

~^~