Best Fates Poems

Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped
By three dainty pairs of deft hands
To weave the cold words of life's fickle script.

Clotho spins life with a valiant grip,
Her spindle ablaze with gold strands.
Life's thread is spun, measured, and snipped.

Lachesis measures without pause or slip,
Deciding the length...

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"Road Kill and the 3 Fates"



Daughters of Nyx
the sisters 


Stand strong together
when darkness
feigns innocence
next to the forgotten
Road Kill

Nyx becomes Themis
a memory 
infiltrates the mind
prompting the true law
and order of things

Backwards towards
a beginning
Inside resides 
the female Titan
somewhere winning

Collecting the threads
of each life enlightening
the golden chords copacetic
the...

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A new sunrise, a new time, a new day
Sunsets past, just a memory, time gone.
Yesterday we cannot live for, or pray
Tomorrows, there are many more, not none.

One body, one mind, one love, never late
The fates cruel, or be they kind instead.
To never love, how wrong,...

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Oh crushed the buttercups beneath our feet 
Hand in hand to walk the sweet green meadow. 
To hear the lark and nightingale so sweet 
Side by side, sit on the stile in shadow 


(A new sunrise, a new time, a new day) 
(Sunsets past, just...

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The fates of newborn children were marked in separate cards
Long before their souls flew in their clay figurines like birds.
Beyond doubt, all cards are marked and all fates will collide.
Like the clashing objects in rough whirlwind or Tsunami tide.

My destiny is written, imprinted in a...

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White roses grew in my mouth 
Drunk in ambrosial poetries 
Craving for love from a butterfly 
'til perpetual darkness. 
 
Argentine crepuscule stole my happiness 
Caliginous skies swallowed my entity 
Still waiting for her to come 
Seems I have to wait 'til morning sun 
...

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I can vividly recall the moment it occurred. 
I can recite in my mind each particular word. 
We were hanging around by the locker room door, 
to congratulate the team for winning once more.
It was a tournament game with a large rowdy crowd. 
The fans...

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Ah! 
The cruel fates
of comets and kings.

To bend
around the arc of Archimedes,
swaying and swelling,
to be crowned on its 
next flight around.

Followed by trails
with wind in their sails, until 
new laws are lain on the land.

They so love the moon,
they would encase it in granite.
Again, they'll...

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Almost all people just try to steer 
their own life cars 
in their own ways,
few, through wide highways,
a great number, 
through narrow lanes
with no gains
but in too many pains
so they all swear 
at not what they haven't done
that they should have done,
but at their own...

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Love is a conquest, a journey
 A story waiting to be told
 Next years best seller written to be sold
 So hold my hand love me here
 
Let our lives become apparently clear
 Understanding love holds me cold
 It creeps up inside of me growing...

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i saw you in a dream in pasadena when i found an old miniature tape recorder hidden in the
wall. that day i went to photograph the orange wall surrounding the estate reclaimed by
the government and chain-linked fence to keep me out
that night i tried to...

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I don’t write Sonnets,
  or Limerick verse

I don’t write Haiku,
  though often terse

I don’t write Ballads,
  or Horacian Odes

I don’t write Parables,
  to self-implode

But I do write in Rhythm,
  and often in Rhyme

With meaning that’s buried,
  and metered in...

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Yucatan, etc.

Cortez, DeMille are gone.
It's now the locus
of postgraduate honeymoons,
urban fugues, a minor literary genre.

Knowledge and ejection predispose us
to technological parody--
antique busses, burros, plumbing, pyramids--
as if nothing ever caught on.

There is no CHRONOLOGY, the pace and mores
are too counterproductive--
poster Indians pee along the road,
the women...

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Age's bloodiest showdown looms, 
Or such it seems by its lurid form; 
Spirit's sharpest arrows must fly
Swifter than is their agile-witted norm. 

Now Armageddon's most savage sword 
Cruelest aim of softest landings takes, 
Though target's dexterous fightback 
Its most foolproof arsenals stakes. 

Thus unfolds time's...

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Bazaar
 

The nights’ chest opens up -
strings of illusions
rattle in palms
the knowing buyers haggle
for a dream
while the fascinated women
try on 
toles of princesses or odalisques.
In the shell of hope
genuine perls are priceless.

Silk labyrinth
of amber and incense,
amulets of shamans hidden in death,
a mirage in golden cases,
the...

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