Monthly Archives: June 2015

The Land of the Dead

if Anubis had been a Cubist what would his paintings have been of; I wonder about these things in moments in between when tad poles turn to frogs and the moon is out in day time instead of night; fills … Continue reading

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Kudzu

I was a randy weed growing up and got into everything and everyone all over the place, was I a bad seed I wrapped the world in green… where I don’t belong I always went, I grew and grew and … Continue reading

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Lake Grasmere

In fields I dream of Coleridge writing Xanadu and the march of time past Bukhara and Samarkand and Masjed e Shariff and Boz Kooshi and Opium Wars in China, not the British Empire’s finest hour trying to balance their trade … Continue reading

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Summer Dreams

I’m there again upon the beach among the tamarind trees where the stream flows into the vast Pacific Ocean and the breeze and rocking motions of the waves like the hips of the Hula dancers sway the beat of life … Continue reading

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Acteon and I

Acteon and me the moon has risen above our pain and in cold space its beauty gives us grace but on her dark side we will never know if she is friend or foe, I wanted Artemis but she turned … Continue reading

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River Bed

A river passed through here where now only the outlines of its bed can be seen from the air, a different world the hawk sees than ours I’m sure it sees every little move of creatures smaller than your hand … Continue reading

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Forgotten Lies Retold

Forgotten lies are often told again, forbidden fruit re-stolen the sunshine belies the darkness in my heart and soul where I find solace in the shadows, how little moonlight I have basked in and even less the star light, I … Continue reading

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Life after Star Bucks

It is hard to think in Star Bucks without ear buds A string of skulls about my neck, I awoke a demon this fine morn a mace with spikes as tall as men, a head full of many twisted horns … Continue reading

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For Emma

A ballerina I once knew who danced eternally into the dawn and died alone a long way off from where she once belonged she was born back stage in the Paris Ballet where she should have stayed in anonymity she … Continue reading

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Somnambulent in Babylon

Lost in the crowd I shuffle on and nothing grabs my fancy, each one of us has our own unique punishment since tossed from Eden, the years past by unmarked and unremarkable, one indistinguishable from the next except perhaps by … Continue reading

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