“Gods make their own importance.”

–Patrick Kavanagh


All the passions, indecisions,

And inarticulate fears

Which seize you randomly

Throughout the day,

All the sudden moments

Of chaos, and clarity,

Of lust, anger, and charity

Are more than you, yet only you.


Reason cannot hope to contain

The gods’ whispered instigations;

Wisdom’s inherent in your skin,

And transcends all interior

Motivations like accomplices

Waiting nearby for the fall.


(January 23, 2018)

My Ignorance

Certainty, like god,
Is a comfort denied
Those uncomfortable
Enough to doubt.
I know to say
I know’s a lie,
And truth exists
Only as arrogance.
There are no words,
Nor silent sighs,
To bridge the gap
Between then and now.
What was said’s said.
What’s known, unknown.
To claim my ignorance,
I know, must be shown.
(September 27, 2017)


“What is divinity if it can come
only in silent shadows and in dreams?”
                        –Wallace Stevens
even in day’s transparency
the divine’s pervasive nature
hides well enough
from myopic’s like me
even as glass in its clarity
bends light to shatter unseen colors
across a distant wall
the ubiquitous breathes unnoticed
even now as  I write I think
of  you somewhere other
than here where you’ve never been
extant only in shadowed dreams
the divine like desire resists
acquiescence in order to exist
(March 28, 2017)


the fragmentary moments vanish
blur into the greater god’s oblivion
one would think yet one does not
possess enough will to resist
the smothering onslaught’s surge
long enough to think for oneself
long enough to think one can
exposition’s time’s relentless
explanation nags at rags
each scrap a potential cause
each thread must unravel
into totality’s tight mosaic
one’s existence is not whole
one exists within the whorl
(March 9, 2017)