Moonshine

The Moon is a star's tomb

collapsed to pocked stone.

Boldly it nicks light from the Sun

in a varied, betimes null, fashion.

Drawn by Earth to shade eves and move tides...

Thief to Sun,

Slave to Earth,

a curséd berth

stars shun.

Crimson Snide

 

Stormy Day Ferris

In a faded floral dress

and effusive smile

apostrophized by 

lively blue eyes,

hopeless to imagine

she ever slept.

At the playground

she swung highest 

and told everyone 

she's kicking the Sun.

   

Otium Dognitate

 

Cloud Swathed Sun

 

Angel's Regard

 

When Air Becomes Terror

When air becomes terror birds sing dirges.

The Sun's rays mock masked children 

scratching window panes.

Dust gathers on desks too close for hygienic concern,

playgrounds still as graveyards.

When air becomes terror billionaires sing paeans

for pharmaceutical corps and strictly enforced

cleansing of public space while their wealth 

spikes immensely. 

Tech (Statement by Jacques Ellul)

.          

Pictures from the Nature Preserve Park

Otters with heads shaved 

like Slaves of Christ

swam in columns down

canals.

One may have been

the reincarnated

Aquinas.

A Mother and her boys 

on a carousel,

mirrors captured me taking

taking photos.

In a white Volvo I was 

the driver playing music

that "always told a story"

as the boys laughed

in backseats. 

Purple Plush

 

Clarity Hall

So young we're old.

So fun we're bored.

In a bright hallway

on plush pile carpet

my love's feet,

cold as

coroner's kiss,

glide closer.

Her hand strokes

my cheek

like scythes

glean wheat.

Antic Bronze

To the Queen of Carolina Circle

 Head first into the world,

 a girl crowned blonde.

 Precious and blinded by

 pointed blades of light.

 Years erase the blight.

 Bloom of hair and limbs

 ignite with youthful vigor,

 ripening life so tender.

 Time drags and adulthood

 hangs high above her reach, 

 dim as a distant star.

 Alive with dream and caution,

 years fly and ideals blossom.

 She gets to work and builds,

 hope alone won't do,

 a life to fit her best:

 Not without passionately seeking

 a helpmate to make it doubly blest.

 

 

 

Four Mile Road

Our bus cleared the overpass.

Scent of manure fills nostrils 

as gold fields flank the road

far as youthful eyes espy.

                                           Out to Pioneer: a square, sparse structure

                                           of three stories, solid as a Cathedral

                                           without ornament, featuring dully

                                           tiled hallways with water fountains 

                                           made too high for children.

In classrooms a tricolored rag 

hung over a prominent corner 

we pledged ourselves to each morning.

                                            Afterwards, from steel vents     

                                            above baseboards,  (glittering grates radiant as sin)

                                            warm fires of hell

                                            conveyed the quickened breath

                                            of diligent devils to all.

When the heat shut off

everyone, in sacred silence, knew

death's sombre polity was nigh.

Blake

The feral silence of Angels

flooded his form.

Fens were drained like

faces of lost souls

beguiled by the 

Demonic din of Babel.

Sunstitched

 

Sunbrace

Her smile bright as milestones 

on steep sun dressed hillsides.

Sunspot amber eyes' shade

with the grace of dawn's rays.

Clusters of stars flare 

in her heavenly hair

twisting gaily in 

Etesian air.

Lullaby

Arbors of clientele,

physiognomies

cast by articulate

leaves.

 

An owl's coo and flutter the coda

as rustling leaves lull us prey 

to strange aspects.

Lockdown Spleen

 

Barricade streets, confine living souls,

you cannot kill the love inside us.

Throw families out into those streets,

starve the poor,

let the elderly perish without a word

from loved ones...

Be clinically cruel as you wish,

it will not kill the love inside us.

You only kindle bonfires that shall 

make motes of your feckless cruelty.

Wealth of Nations

The Gates are horrid, 

built with the bone and sinew

of indigent test subjects.

Far away on private isles

our wealthy benefactors

are deflowering children

or drinking their blood

to procure eternal youth.

In boardrooms quid pro quo

proudly slaughters millions 

to reap robust return.

Pandemic and shutdowns for subjects,

mandating untested but profitable 

vaccines to mint trillions for gatekeepers.