Hearth (day 1603)

I am waiting for sunset,
For the sky to enliven
With one last hurrah
In a brilliant exposé
Of memories lingering
Upon baited tongues
That stopped,
As if frozen by a single call,
To gasp, to breathe deep,
To inhale and then
Sing as a dove does in flight
And then whisper
Like ignited fire
Deep within the hearth. 

Ask Embla (day 1551)

Buri, Buri, Bor’s three sons
– Odin, Vili, Ve of Bestla –
Take pain from frost ogre’s Bos
Who suckled life
To Ginnungagap’s gain:
Fire to ice,
Melt to freeze,
Blood to water,
Flesh to land,
Bones to mountains.
But pass great peaks
Will come to be,
Ask and Embla
Be flesh to climb,
Ask and Embla
Shall mind land too.
From our Odin: spirit;
From our Vili: will;
From our Ve: wisdom.
Together a triad,
True Aesir indeed.

Fire (day 1481)

Rhapsodus! Exaltus!
Furious foe!
Hand over structure,
In battle, all shall bow.

Indebted to no one,
Enthralled by all;
A ravaging hellion
Breaks bonds, friends or foe.

Tame a wild warrior?
Deny hungry hands their due food?
How lonesome and ignorant
That stool would do feel.

And in smouldering wakening
A clear path shall be known,
No man shall forget
Battle cry of fury’s fire.

Illusion (day 1438)

Whispers cease to fill the rounds
Your eyes become my cast-off stones
Black serpents are what thoughts become
I have spent my last reason

Tear apart fickle justifications
That purify all your moves
Lasting memories are all I save
Inward voices: my own Hades.

Dance your heart around our fire
Widows weaving, nevermore
I am undone amidst this body
I am not alone in my illusion

Fine Wine Dreams (day 1392)

This tap has run dry
Of its fine wine,
Just chips and dip left
On the mantle ledge.

A fire burns elastically,
Transfixing each gaze
Into a myraid of dreams
Slowly edging reality’s edge.

Darkness transcends time
When city streets no longer wind
About fir trees and hemlock,
Mocking life’s cruel new wedge.

Hell is My Political Agenda (day 1356)

Our political agendas are nauseating.
They’re stuffed so full of capital letters
That the underlying messages of our society –
Hell, even our cultures,
Are suffocated with exhaust stacks and bottom dollars.

If I could have dreamed up a Heathenistic Hell,
I’d put city roads and destruction for progress
Right at the top of that scorched list.
I’d decree land had suddenly become a commodity
We could sell simply because we had a gun that said we could.
Just like young adults unable to find their righteous paths,
Explicit lyrics contaminating the innocent minds,
My Hell would be a prescribed better way, mothers.

Did you feel my heart as it’s ripped out every single day
When land mines help fight swollen populations,
Planted in a war to help save lives?
War to not war! Fight fire with fire!

And in my Hell, in my political agenda I call my country,
I would give us hope, every.single.day.
We would wake up to the smell of progress
And desire to capture it in any way possible
So that it could be shared with anybody we knew.
We would mutually feel good about the loss of our trees,
Because our heads were buried so deep in our electricity
Where we were collectively dreaming about
Ways to continue our progress.

For my simple pleasure I’d have dandelions everywhere
As symbols of true health and prosperity.
I’d pull up my old lawn chair, warm beer in hand,
And watch as all the sinners pulled out their organic chemicals
To spray the evil yellow root to death.
On the cold days when there were no death machines
I’d read my botanical books and let the rain
Wash tears into my Hell.

For me this is the saddest thought of all,
Because in spite all my attempts to rectify ignorance,
I would be a black seed living in my own true Hell.
I would be a puppet, inspired to raise my voice
And told that I do mean something to this Hell.
There I’d be, red faced eating my poisoned earth,
Handed another blank Party card
And told why I should be excited.

San Francisco - 201202 (144 of 809)

Love in the Key of D (day 1351)

I’m in a habit of unconditional love,
Of putting fire beside wind
And letting coals glow on.

I like getting letters immaculately written,
Long sentences with important verbiage
Informing me of all I need to know.

It takes all my fancy dancing
To keep the music ringing,
And I let hands of perfect maidens
Spin my soul forever free.