foxholes
full of incessant prayers
what the hell does that prove?
ditches and trenches and bunkers
are filled with dead soldiers
who fought valiently for god and country

some survive
believing jesuspray saved them
which is tantamount to saying
"fuck the ones who died
they didn't pray correctly,
or hard enough,
or to the right god"

then onward they go
these self-rightous christian soldiers
testifying to their god's bountiful mercy and blessings

Autumn leaves
floating colours
winter creeps.

an ocean of a dream
swells in its ebb
the labrynth wells

your wings
your crown
your rule

loss in winter hues
the splinter waves
awash

transmission
touch to touch
location

the tender tome

The swarming crowd
teeming larger than life,
descends into your molecular life
with singular strife, a bugle and a fife.

Now, in the jungle of your bungle,
you bang your drum slowly with
all that is holy and still you can't
get that secular design out of your
prehistoric mind. You learn to walk
on your own two misanthropic feet,
though your knuckles bleed and you never
run out of things to say, this way and
that, at a drop of a hat in a magician's empty act.

you ask me!
you ask me just now
and shall write one for you,
as only love does ensue
from the crevices of my heart instantly
and
you can fathom the depth incessantly
at your own free will,
but all love you still,
for the love you give
and
hope you will continue
to read me still,
of course at your own free will.
I’m a naturally born poet,
and know no poetic nuances,
my words flow
out of sheer spontaneity
and
lovers like you
love to swallow
that’s all I know

Blue skies to turn white bones brittle
your steps lose erring spruice
deferring the reverberation of metal
that snake who offers the apple, now to a silent noose,
as if you had a choice, screaming
your wrasping voice quickly lost
grasping the loss of meaning
seamless endlessness is the cost.

Canto Nine ~ It has been nearly a week and Gundhag has finally sent the boy back to the battlefield for the young mother’s corpse.
The storm persists as he runs with characteristic speed to obtain her. The man he had imprisoned has escaped him, but as with all things in his chaotic mind he no longer gives thought to it. That a bewildered form of destiny had caused their paths to cross, and with the crossing possible revelation as to his ever hidden reality, has been shelved in the fearful corners of his self taught insanity.

Life never seems simple
Every day I fake dimples
To bury a secret
So no one can read it
If I could
You know I would
I am about to break
And you just take and take
I don't need peace
When you take pieces
Of me
Please don't turn out the light
Everything is not... alright
Life is a race
I cannot keep the pace
People ask what I am doing
But I am not sure where I am going
People think I am flying
On the inside I am dying
This is my knife
Deep into my life

This.
And that you love me.
Even just that you are.

That you see softness and then it is.
That you lay down and I sleep.
That you are happy and so, I am.

You are.
And that you love me.
Like this.

cool down man

you can't make everyone
listen!
many like me are
deaf and blind
in search of one
none can find

so leave your temper
far behind,
take God
out of your mind

cool down!

but you can't prohibit
poetry
that god alone does define
the critiques here
may refine....

Why this anger
I wonder
who so ever does
blunder
will get their share
why do you alone
about the unknown
so much
care...

cool down!
man!!!