Wandering in the desert
profanity infused me
Each word like a scorpion
the curses on fire
The sand an abrasive
the cactus a warning
The sting of my words
—killing prophet and liar
(Dreamsleep: October, 2022)
Wandering in the desert
profanity infused me
Each word like a scorpion
the curses on fire
The sand an abrasive
the cactus a warning
The sting of my words
—killing prophet and liar
(Dreamsleep: October, 2022)
Immaculate perception
its vision so pure
Beyond all deception
adroitly demurred
A birth without legacy
an orphan unnamed
Judgment abandoned
—redemption proclaimed
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
Storm laden vengeance
the Father has sent me
Each cloud a dark memory
the wind whipping through
Lightning bolts charging
the moment eternal
Excuses torrential
—in thunder’s adieu
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
The graves of my youth
lay scattered behind me
Each headstone a failure
endorsed by my hand
A shroud covered memory
encloses my history
Where ghosts of tomorrow
roam—haunting my past
(St. David’s Church: September, 2022)
Trapped in politics
—victims we remain
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
Creating…
the great savior
from pain
The artist…
a messiah
from despair
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
Catching truth in the light
or trapped by the night
The hourglass a prison
—as twilight falls
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
You have to be young
to disappear…
and healthy enough
to fall into the cracks
of a new tomorrow
You have to be young
to isolate…
and strong enough
to brave the winter
of a new becoming
(The New Room: September, 2022)
Greatness
is condemned to loneliness
as the desert calls
magnifying the instant
through the burning glass
unleashing its essence
in the fire of possibility
spreading old ashes reborn
—upon the sand
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)
If Sartre was right
and
“Hell Is—Other People”
then
Isolation holds the key
that
opens perception’s door
(Dreamsleep: September, 2022)