At Sleep

Wilds of her dark hair
alive with mystery

August's potent scent
steeps still air

As shared breath braces
the hush of chapels.

Parmenides

Only one story and one way
appearing many that is.
Never disparate, but facets
full of all that is.

I turned away from Pythagoras 
and all he learned from the Egyptians.
Parts wise, but the whole
marred by his own
artful knavery.

My chariot Plato nicked
for his treble soul
shall never roll.
And the Sail,
whether white or black,
still swells full
in Sailness.

Temporal Economy

Days short as a breath,
nights lasting epochs...

Youth's extravagance
mints time's mounting debt.

Words written or spoken
hang swords overhead.

Conscience, a shrill picket,
disturbs placid temples.

Articulation's Progress

Born so stuffed with words
all we do is laugh or cry.

Pulse a deviant metre,
resonance sculpts its
scales in the ear.

Whispers inside engrave worlds
to find shelter in or escape.

Ultimately we cede expression and accept
the eternal peace of Heaven's boundless prospect.

Il fait très chaud

Intime oui

Sweet Depths and Splendor