Long Apse Poems

Tuck into the public
private seclusion.

My aversion to inclusion
includes a stub, a tub,
a carelessly careful curation,
a velvet rope, a hint of hope,
a folding chair, softened and stickied 
by foam and frothing soda spills.

A not soundless though...

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Midnight at Blackfriars 
  
The city spires are hidden, 
It’s getting colder fast, 
It feels as though we might have 
Some snow this month at last. 
The wind sweeps keenly through St. Giles(1) 
The...

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Volition, orientation familiarization aahing
and oohing within restrictive paradigm molding
inviolable honorable gentility -
flagrantly, desirously, clearly boyz abandoning
willfully skirting, panting (heavily)
forfeiting abominably, (no Joe King) abiding

chomping at bit, damning delineated, or obscure
parameters, between one acceding
Earthlinked selfish living
psychosexual...

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Weakness
 
It is said that he was weak because he would not
conform, could not subjugate his will, would not
let them imprison his mind, cage his spirit.  Weak
because he stood alone and not with the...

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THE MORTAL DILEMMA OF FAIRY TALES AND FIRE FLIES 
 

(Brandon, the world  

depends on the existence of fairy tales and fire flies, 

the simple kindness towards lesser things,	 

the magnanimity, the compassion	 

of...

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They say
?There are a million ways?
To say I love you

In this day and age?
I could only find
?In my computer’s brain?
The words 
to say I love you?
In 53 languages 
of the 10,000 languages
?Spoken on this planet

Someday...

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Part 3  --  Sir Christopher Wren

"Resurgam".  What a righteous word it is!
The Latin form of "I will rise again".
I'd like it on my tomb.  A scientist
I was, a humble Oxford teaching...

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My Dream Vacation

                  To return once more to Italy where the forgotten places
     ...

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It is the scent of you, that breathes in me.
It is the music when you laugh
that chants across the apse
between our heartwalls,
signaling desire, tossing off forever
thoughts of penitence and shame.
It is the holiday of you
that...

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Everything  is beautiful at this time of day,
Following a quickening morning shower.
And the huge orange pearl that is the sun
Is just beginning to shepherd its endless power.
The spirit of divine blessings carries  me,
In...

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Was gold cross over alter fake or real?
Must be a metal made resembling gold.
T'was fake young lady's mind did surely feel,
not right apse having gold cross real to hold.
This so until then otherwise was told.
Her...

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The lust of Summer now smokes a cigarette,
replete, exhausted and spent.
Beach bums and young mums chunter and sigh,
wondering where the sun went.
As the first pinch of Autumn disturbs the dark rooks
and the seagulls follow the...

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It’s raining hammers and nails
The storms are rusty
And hang in the sky
The pews are shadowed
And the apse is silent
Sinners are upon their knees
Darkness descends upon the day
A lantern swings in the storm
The executioner is hooded
Silent...

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Neither mad dogs nor Englishmen
rejoice as sunlight growing thin
allows the tidal sands to shift
through moonlight’s vapor growing dim

Yet still the beasts of lolling tongue
huddle with their shaded young
beneath a cloak of crimson red
abandoned nests now...

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The priest prolonged chants speaking somber tone.
Resplendent vestments white were cambric light,
embroidered gold with deep blue colors shown.
Man's mediator nigh in great God's sight.
Above, in gilded niches reredos' height,
wrought marble statues gave down sweet cast...

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Beautiful dreamer, midnight's 
solstice sway
Beacon your lover to sweet 
serenity's hideaway
Build a synaptic bridge to 
connect each wandering soul
Entrancing moonbeams, 
through each apse passion 
scroll
Stardust coat each amorous 
strand, pining hearts dole
Cupid pluck each heart...

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Amidst the radiant draperies of light
I halt encased in wonder
Of the jeweled splendor on my sight
My heart, irreverent thunder,
Though it but whispers from the nave
Of accordion columns
Rising to meet the eyes in still wave
Of wings...

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Wind whistling through the trees
Reminds me of the tiny piccolo,
High-pitched obbligatos, ranging free
Wind whistling through the trees, blow
The subtle sounds of spring’s arrival.
Wavering tremolo, shimmering limbs
Marked by winter storms for survival,
Voices of ten-thousand sacred hymns
Humming...

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Staring onto the blanks of skin depths,
I might as well fake for forsake.
Bright eyed and brushy tailed,
Hidden in the mask of despair.
Abandoned quiets of youthfulness,
juggling with lives apse.
"Hush, speak no more.
You ain't my reign,
nor am...

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A Sunday morning clear and fair
My heart with gladness filled,
I walked to yon churchyard there
The breeze was calm and stilled.
Suddenly from the tower above
The pealing of an ancient hymn
A song about the Savior’s love,
I whispered...

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We have come to a point in
Our history where we no longer have the ability,
Rather, the commitment to see things for what they are,
Desiring what can be imagined in our minds,
Singularly unburdened by the truth,
And...

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They said he’d be here.
I waited
Amid the echoes
Stained glass shadows
Lurking in the apse.

Polished gold and silver
Marble columns and floors
“butt shined” wooden pews
An odor of incense
Amid an emptiness.


They said he’d be here.
An old man smiled
Said: “be...

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