Schist
Labirynthe
August Embrace
stealth the sleuth
of breeze
hesitant sleeper
stir string
the Beast
in beautiful bowel
depths

Cocles dark
swarm ghost
treasons
Splendors seasons

wait smolten wraths
and tendril wraiths
vexed too notion
life presumptious
neath Octobers
cold eye

Stir alive
the oracle dream

...

It's 5 am,
pitch dark and rather cold.
Above, his wife untroubled in her sleep.
Alert for sounds of motion
but contented,
he sits
and softly prays.
"My God you know I'm grateful for all kindness,
one tiny thing I miss,
the day-star rising
... locked as I am
- within
----a tight
------routine."

Up the steep incline
Trudging a trail serpentine
View from peak divine

In the glimmer of light, that shines through
the East Texas pines, close to dusk,
I stand still aware of a whisper from an opening
that is allowing the light to shine through.
Who are you, I ask, while a million
electric needles pierce my arms.
“I am the light that is the last warm ray
on the first day of summer, sole proprietor of the sun
and holder of humankind’s destiny.
Don’t you know that just like this flickering fading light,
In a minute, it will be over and you will have
no memory of the darkness closing in.

The distance tells me
the life of all is now ebbing
to seed afresh more somewhere else
in the distant horizon
East or may be West

the source of life warms our hearts and hearths too
come my loved one again will you
as the mirage of life now clears up
you alone are
our fire
our love
our master
since ages now 'tis clear

you alone are ours O sunny dear
far from the wilderness of human mind
why did you so far from us resign

A publicized fear
A few can be nuclear
Is patently clear

When dads go away young
they leave behind memories
so fresh
these never ever age
as dad it appears is here still

but who can fight
against an unknown
unseen gods will

We alone have to severe grief
and our left over time kill

I wonder if dad knows or ever will
he must be ether by now
waiting my merger...
O dad
where will we meet
do indicate an RV
and tell me
how I will recognise thee

O heaven believe me
Dad did love me
Only

air rolls...a basement of books
a bank of public computers
plastic chairs..but comfortable

From my dented heel kicked
fire door to the street
seems a mile

the first half kilometer
tells me the mood of the city
regardless of bleaching scalding
sun..moody weeping weather
or the cold artifact of crisp
freeze yer balls day

headphones on
kit bag slung over shoulder
no money for coffee
kraft dinner rice and oatmeal
left...
tea
television

CARIS

I never knew a sadness so deep
than saying good-bye.
I never felt my soul so empty
to think I would lose those dear
to me before my own parting.
I mourn the days before their
coming and fear that worst of
sorrows and desolation…

Through Capitalism
Swayed by Materialism
Lost Idealism