Death's Gate

No words cover the experience.
No time undoes the feeling.
In love having fullness.
Only to be left releasing:
A shovel, a handful of dirt and the hole left behind.

In love, in sharing: becoming angels.
Living itself: is the wing beat of being an angel.
Even when forced to face death
Coming down to find the ground.

No words fulfill this hole.
Not enough dirt hide the remains,
Within the mind, memory and visions
Which as if alive
Continue to play out.

In peace
I wish you peace
To say in oneness
Death is a reflection
Looking back from the depths
Towards the light
Where we all are one.

This is truth
The reason no words work
In that Death is the merging,
Becoming alight
With the Tao.

Tribute

Green eyes perceiving

A green world.

River of hair flowing

Past cities and dreams.

Skin hardened by life,

Toughened in street fights.

A force of natural beauty.

Yet so shamefully touched

By lovers without love.

Walking loney dangerous avenues.

Trying on styles to discover

What suits her but

They never do.

Were she to stop by my window

And see into my mind

I would soothe her aches

And bruises.

Yet she would soon weary

Of my silent chatter.

I'll wave with smiling tears

as you hurry past.

Your timeless impression

Stamped upon my heart.

Infocontainment

American splendor

A pop carnavale

The greedy get famous

The poor rot in jail

The glitter and star light

Is doing its job:

Distract and divide while

They rape, kill and rob.

Is that a pimple on my face?

Oh, I'm such a big disgrace!

I can't keep it all together as I should.

The only explanation's I'm no good.

I want too much. I need to much.

I never learned to mind my p's and q's.

I didn't toe the line and pay my dues.

Now my dreams,

Oozing day by day,

Bleed out

With the atmosphere.

What am I even saying?

If the right people hear, surely

It's a treasonous crime.

And, unlike those

Whitehouse lackeys

I may well end in a cell doing time.

Samantha's Monster

A monster?

More like a reverse butterfly,

A noble creature turning into a worm.

Samantha is not the power,

That is corrupting brave Hillary.

I say this not in anger, but in sorrow.

Turning in principles for power,

Is selling your soul in bits and pieces.

Eventually you become something.

That is called a monster in archetypal realms.

Being a monster does not show up in birth charts.

It can happen to anyone.

Blowing through Life

I drink them in,
Your words
Of lithe and light
And falling into meaning.

Hot, parched soul that I bring
To party through the changing,
Moods and captured essence
Enrapturing liquid emotion.
Capturing brief moments,
Dripping down my throat like song.

Blowing through life,
Into a magical canyon
Stygian rain ignites
Wandering visions.

Madness unbound
By resplendent derision,
Rocks into devastation of lullabies
Expressed through Lilithian eyes,
Way past the limits
Of light and reason.

In a gentle corner,
Made of more glorious dreams.
Love's candle burns
Warming celestial clay
New worlds orgasmic in grace,
Explore passion.

A Writer's New Year

This list is not necessarily in working order. Just listed as they popped into my head.

1. Finish and publish a short story

2. Blog 3x a week

3. Secrets outline by February 1

4. Rough draft of Secrets by April 1

5. Write two dozen flash fictions pieces

6. Write two dozen drabbles

7. Write six short stories

8. Compile the dozens into an e-book

9. Find readers for Secrets

10. Find readers for e-book and post very short reviews on book page and other sites

11. Read two dozen books

12. Find and read Christie books or stories I've missed

13. Read at least three books on writing

14. Make better use of the writers programs I'm in

15. Find freelance work

Some of the writing is well on its way but for whatever reason was never completed. Hopefully this will be my incentive. I love marking things off, don't you?

Capricorn Full Moon Reflection

Archetypes
Walking the streets,
Riding subways
Subterranean consciousness,
Ethereal siamese twin
To the everyday.

Shadow and substance
Entwined as before
The invasion.
I long to tell you,
Yearn to tell you,
But only if you truly listen.

I cannot say these things twice.
Memories seep through,
Acquire form.
Stand straight and true
As soldiers or Marines
Giving full allegiance
To any who will take that load.

There are Gods lying in excrement
Begging relief in the form
Of sacrament
Potent and deadly.
There are Angels and
Demons waging war,
Dice from a grail
Foresaging trial or comfort.

Hungry Ghosts wail.
Vampires and Creatures
Of the night
Seek shelter before the
Travails of daytime
Break them.
I saw the Morning Star
Wink salaciously.

In my kingdom
All manner of creatures thrive.
Eagles soar.
Lions roar.
Whales sing.
Humans open a
veiled third eye.
The World rejoices.