An angry jealous God

fragile ego easily cracked

by man's mirrored image

upon reflection reveals

only flaws of biblical proportion

merciless mass murderer

by fire and flood

Tantrums, plagues

empty ritual

commanding neither

respect nor worship

only the measure of the desperate's

need to believe

If eden had not come with utlimatums

from an ungodly role model

and promises of an unproofed afterlife

if all your messengers were forsaken

Moses, martyr's and son

What could we have become?

The light that can't hold a candle

burns the bushel

not the bush

the hand that scrawls the walls

commands the stoning tablets

the well fed multitudes loaf

while fishing for platitudes

nets empty of beatitudes

walking on watered wine

I found him

religiously choosing

nails for his cross

knocking cross fingered

nervously seeking

dry rotted wood

disciplining the

baker's dozen apostles against

apostasy by preaching

ten commandments per diem

now his followers are legion

his flaws forgotten and forgiven

past ghosts wholey human

my fears now misbegotten

I love my only son


Was is again

just another's pen

history reborn

torn from ignored pages

ashed aspirations of

pyred sages

tried before a public

tired of inspiration

listless from endless

empty images

wasted on lidless eyes

opened by hopeful greed

cries unheeded

as foretold

simple messages

ages old

The eyes of the girl

at the the end of

"The Boy on a Dolphin"

so latin with a half-lidded language

sinned through the ages

extrasensual, inviting, eternal

hetaera to the world

old lips bitten with lickerish

and the neck exposed, long, turned

a lubricious olive

in love, a vixen

almost invlunerable


Once enamored flower

twining crossed my

granite visage

with supple shoot that

finding flaw

in its winding

probed its tendril

to the core of my

dry obsidian eye

letting splintered light

enter and scatter

shattering the slate

scales that lidded

my vision

gently forcing the hidden

prying the unbidden

emotions to crack me wide

and while I lay

thus exposed and open

I watched winter wither

my tender liberator

my long awaiting

beginning with

watching her die

Unstrung

harped and fiddled

taunted until taut

as piano wire,

warped and riddled

too tightly wrapped

by the geek choir

an unsung zero

ascending the never ending stair

escher sketch

molasses moon walk

mobius escalator

mime out of time

on the dreadmill's

stairs of sand

life has left you

behind


Treading the mill race's

troubled waters

unbridged and in an

incomplete life ring

watching the rats

choose the ship

to abandon

appetities whetted by

the moveable cheese

leaving life's boat

to be vortexed

in the world pool's

waterlogged currency

merrily merrily

drowned by the old will stream

while the straw boss

shirt stuffed

to scare crows

with officious rude authority

manger manager

ensuring the cowed

are dollar fodder

chewing out the herd

bellowing the cud's

ever changing flavor

to an aire of diffident

unethical arrogance

teamed players

earless, hipshot

knees jerking

toadying the line

to a fugue frog march

mooing the

"just do it" duet

when encompassed

in unidirectional

conversation

drowned in radio waves

the hiss of asses reigns

static of desert storms

atomospheric disturbances

of doublespeak

earthmoving political spin

moral navigation

is cast to the winds

the winner corralling the unquarelling


joy is the provenance

of aescetics and saints

who removing all else

find it it in their future

happiness is the birthday present

instant entertainment for placating children

for ourselves, we

exchange pleasantries past

substitute achievement

and prestige at best

for precious little

rest in peace

nuggeted snug

within the quip

pithy truth's pit

chips wisdom's tooth

thus the gapped

grinned jested

the gist is

life's not all its cracked up to be


Delovêd,

I have consumed

the philter to induce

perceived intrinsic value

I have inhaled

the famed perfumed

quindecien potion

for mass infatuation

and viewed vicarious

through your pallid phosphorous waistland

My Barboid,

androgenous ingenue

Diane's anodyne

accessorized to excess

My heartless animal

wild within the extremes

of externally imposed etiquette

and politically correct poise

you nix me

I am unmanned

by your programmed kindness

whatis

whois

whereis

Love

Spirits

claret red

afroth and golden

masqued paramours

guilt with good cheer

infused, furtive companions

dressed as festive

cupped close

in taloned adoration

to lips

loosened and confused

by daily doses of vinous truth

and false courage

A heady witches brew

racked in frail vessels

wrecked, falling

retching in the drink

drifting unsteadily

deluded toward

denials' shore

too befuddled to read

the message in the bottle


No jingoed jerimiad

from the citadel

on the hill

no blab, blog or blather

Pacific is not passive

rather a tabula rasa

rivering undeniably

through the sedentary

inner temple stones

an act of the indifident

will within

now shaded under

the ununique

jaded sun

upstaged by the furious and soundless

insignificants, distopics

crowded in comfortable

exile from

the community of one

There is an eidetic message

embedded

in our very awareness

to which we

turn a blind eye

glaring in the sunlight

we are too infinitely small

to bird's eye the big picture

half a day dark

the other dawning

autumn

the yawning season

a leaf from the hymnal of dead grasses

the ode of the timbered choir

strains of organ pipe sunlight shafts

red notes color the cold river of life

Yesterday was iron gray

on the wild and quiet beach

I'll give you the wood smoke

and wave hiss, but no wind

what were the colors of mona lisa's lips

I missed that question

on the SAT of life

still, on the unimprinted sand

the correct response was

Be)

the tint of inspiration

Leap year

vaulting past

millenium religions

splitting the centuries

entrenched technologies

uprising

apogee free

far reaching

the carumba of thunder

and lightening's castenet

the snare drum of storm drops

tickling trout

root and shoot

watching which

trickling sprinkle

brings Spring

stepping

down the shore

walkie talkying

to the unified theory

of continuous reality

each pace a skipping

stone's ripple of

personlized space

my brand of cartwheel

glad arms galatic wide

spreading high tidings

waving to my

bonsai mind's eye