be silent hidden shadow birds
dark winged messengers of strife
your disquiet should not be heard
and cuts my reason as a knife
or claws unseen that holds me prey
to worries which I know not yet
hold fast your songs of woe today
and free me from those cares beset
poet
Dusk Seductive
the dusk, seductive dusk.
what mischief it plays
with the weight of day’s end
take not to task
its willfulness
in having us believe
this is a day, new conceived
rather than its death.
Shades of Night
imperious shades of evening
we know not of their ways
save that they extinguish
all light that fills our days,
thus falls eternal darkness
inexorable deaths
no treaties can placate their calls
that bid our final breaths.
Release
I built a prison from my reason
locked and chained for all of time
conscious thought destroyed my freedom
release I found in scented rhyme
that slips these bonds with such an ease
breaks down imagined walls of stone
that I may walk in heaven’s pleasing
despite the sins I must atone.
una stagione incerta
the last rose opens
and waits for the first tear
of this uncertain season
to turn black and fade,
as in autumn’s death
is shown summer’s reason
Mad Poet?
Oh! for the madness of John Clare
to hear the angels on the air
and the music of their wings
to scribe the poetry they sing.
I yearn for blessed insanity
lost Edens in the world to see
to picture them in rhythm’d rhymes
and paint them with such saintly lines.
what fear do passing seasons hold
when such stories have been told
of beauty’s scars upon the earth
and how from death comes rebirth.
Oh! for the madness of John Clare
to mark the sacred everywhere
despite dark Hell’s corrupt intent
such souls define the heaven sent.
Weltschmerz: The Coming Tide
I dreamt of foxes
lost at sea escaping hounds
fearful of the coming tide
when not just foxes
take to cruel seas
as the hunt no more abides.
are we the fox
or are we hound
as bloodlust
runs us all to ground
Mission Statement
let not your poetry
be hidden,
disguised
as mere platitudes
brocaded in finery
as artifice for
delictation’s sake,
bring forth the soul
in equal parts
hellish and base
saintly and virtuous
and have humanity’s truth
raw and unadulterated
slip from your pen.
Songwords
I saw you in a cloud today
painted silver
as the afternoon sun
hid himself
from the coming storm
I fancy time stood still today
that the planet
had its measure run
parted as we were
from each other’s calm.
I held this thought of you today
in this new serenity
of a world now gone
‘cept for treasured memories
and their gentle balm.
Seeking
I seek a peace
as still as Sunday
before the bells
I seek the love
before the Sundays
censured us with hell.
the blighters rock 