Sophie's sweat
landscapes
the claret red horizon
thick serum
trickles
from a Sickroom -
a death ward
where cracked knuckles
spatter the fjords
moistening the planks;
bathing the laths of anxiety
‘neath
marquis de sade stumps
Norwegian expressions of death -
agoraphobia
murdering actuality;
the Dance of Life
rapidly burns
as a funeral pyre of Ashes are
seized from
your tribe’s headstone
the stench of brother’s legacy
replaces
a protected breath
and a Dead Mother can
descry muted
caterwauls
between
the Clock and the Bed
the two guardians of quietus
merely exit
this clotted bridge
contemptuously -
in soured and
staled
delight
The difference between life from death is that
I believe we all should try to live the best that you
can here on earth. Some do not, they live in violence
and they hurt other people, and just don't care.
They have no remorse for anybody but themselves.
I really don't think these people deserve a chance, not unless
they want it. Now death will come and take care of you.
The good will get some kind of reward, the bad will only get
what they deserve. My point is that we don't know when our
time is up on earth. So be generous and giving and good things
will come your way, sooner or later.
i feel nothing but death is sublime
solution to this pitiless lost soul.
the time has come for an answer
to these questions of like and death.
Surrounded by beautiful death of winter,
what life is left? its waiting til spring
to be reborn. can i be reborn? could
i have a better life? no more pain,
no more manic and depression
unraveling me slowly, driving,
driving me crazy, i wish for nothing but
a wooden box in which i would fit and
a gravedigger to dig the pit. no family
needed maybe just the crows.
I wrote this poem shortly after his death on January 17, 2008.
Bobby Fisher, chess savant and master
Unparalleled among the best that played.
A champion, a genius, destroyer
Of chess opponents, this day passed away.
You either loved him or abhorred the man.
There wasn’t middle ground. His time had come.
Eccentricities never lost his fans.
I am the proof, e pluribus Unum.
In life his brief existence was tragic
Perhaps in death we’ll gain understanding
Of genius. Chess his forte, his magic
Preoccupation gave us deepening
Enlightenment of Caissa, his mentor.
His spirit now with her forevermore.