this labyrinth has no end
no center in which to be eaten
no twine to trace an origin
just a blind turn toward hope
a quick glance back toward despair
one cannot be lost without direction
yet our angled descent is certain
I can see the sun before it sets
listen to the fuss of squirrel and jay
or be consumed in worry’s fire
there is no clear path to happiness
we are always here
(November 5, 2020)
the well offers no echo
for the truth to rise upon
to allow her to step screaming
from the water’s cold depths
to shatter the infinite mirrors
where we live out our lives
(November 1. 2020)
crow turns her blacker eye
deeper into the night
then one last direful cry
before she takes flight
(October 28, 2020)
from “Change” work in progress
I am open
as the earth;
all rivers flow
through me.
I walk out
following the sun–
radiant with intimations
from fate– here,
now, light flows
into the dark
forever determined
to be free.
(January 19, 2019)
“Knowledge of the name gives him who knows it mastery even over the being and will of the god.”
–Ernst Cassirer
The mythos surrounding
Can’t in positivity
Can’t hide the truth
That can’t can
Always be said,
And can occur
Even when said
Can’t can’t.
Ultimately changing
A word can’t change
the word. Limits
Exist that can’t be
Broken, even when
We say they can’t.
(November 12, 2018)
no dragons burn and pillage
even when lost in metaphorical
forests. the children’s screams
in the candy houses next door
are real enough not to be just
symbols in a jungian melodrama
analyzed casually over a cup of tea.
there are no stories to hide within.
the steel-eyed king and queen
handing down impartial justice
never existed anymore than the gods
who were used to justify raw power.
Whereas the black-helmed men
with polished shields and truncheons
still freely move down city streets
searching for someone else to kill.
(October 12, 2018)
He pointed out the apple.
She naively bit her lip, but
not her tongue, and said
Wouldn’t that be wrong?
Who says what’s wrong,
he said, then laughed.
If one is good, and one
bad simply in saying,
should the word hold sin,
or the one who speaks
into division? Do words
so stage our reactions,
or are our words an apple
offered up in innocence?
(October 7, 2018)
first bits
then fragments
fall away
like branches
on fire
crack off
until
wholly ash
which wind then
wisps to air
adrift
incorporeal
a spirit singing
in each breath
(August 9, 2018)
It was a place to go.
It promised us more.
The past had nothing,
but anger and fear.
The witch smiled,
because we knew
she was a witch,
but entered freely.
Compliance, not cages,
held us to her.
It was easier to
submit, than not.
We live in fear
of a better world.
(June 2, 2018)
“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)
