Featured Post

threats

this fiction of mine laboured flux in the skull of mysteries and memories worked by furies to the wheel is dealt a willing thread into...

Monday, October 28, 2013

father...are thou in the cavern


if the almighty father knew
what this moment is for me and you
he’d be the prince that slew
the dragon in the dragon’s lair
and placed upon his tongue of fire
the hand that wisdom cast
on blood and flesh and passion
to feel the burn of time
scorch the monster’s head
who sparked up all the novas
of the universe’s thread
but god’s a captive in this minute
that time has spun on rock and sinews
and in the lion’s den he stands a single
man to feel this dawn’s first rays
spurting from the beast’s fangs
with tongues we are made to taste
each time with crimson tears

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

of brick and steel (love concrete)



the person foretold to become will be up next
keeping the hour of engagement without fail
_coincidence or a lottery could explain best_
doubtless we learn the score in a lone move
to pass through the doors aglow and dead

-here music…preferably The WASP (Texas 
Radio And The Big Beat) by The Doors-

we know the score 
we can take the heat
the guardians of our circumstance
holders of our keys 
(sponsors of our dreams if you may)
deal our portion by chance fortune 
or misfortune _tell you a fib
i shot my darling when our angel
turned against us lovers 
we had placed our emotions in a bid
to ride the wheel spinning our hearts
on a tread of faith set to live 
the given play with our own will 
and failed

eighteen months later 
i was cursing the land of the free
and the one of cockaygne riding
a penitentiary van on a saturday morning
with muzzi meisner and hollywood 
from east side buffalo aka cocaine
_remember the set_ the skies grey
and everyone quietly playing the current
take of the foolhardy knight’s tale
the one to steal the show gets the most time
in jail _we remember little else 
and we say in virtue of the fruit taken
for eden’s sake don’t forgive us we're threats
light burns oblivious of that first breath
blowing sparks to no end only to fail you
when your heart has stopped

‘the poets down here don’t write nothing at all
they reach for their moment and try to make
an honest stand’ _quote on the wall of a ny jail