Long Brumal Poems

* For J.K. Rowling *

                 ~ 

now, deliberate your hearing
     to bring back the pages...

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I am home ...

oh, my heart
      pray, hush its cadence
         for the sacred sake of unsated thirst
   beg its thrums...

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I know the game of exclusion,
have played it all my life and
now I've mastered it,
a talent to brag about.

Exclusion from normality,
the joy of inclusion.
Exclusion from continuity,
the malaise of discontinuity,
the permanent otherness.
It's a mystery how it...

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Oh, if I could quickly bare witness to God's perfect hand in life renew.
Oh, if I now could bare witness to his wondrous seasonal debut.

Oh if spring would come and release my body from the...

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Alone and weary ...
   she dangled toes o'er the mountain ledge -
 the late-October night was clear
and bitter cold, yet as still as death ...
 rare were such even-tides
   when not...

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I round a bend in the trail ...

And gasp, literally ...
The scene before me takes my breath away
And I stop, transfixed by the sheer breadth of the panorama
The shimmering span of Crater Lake ...

Clear, crystalline...

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After the Ice Rain.
The woods outside look like a glazed forest preserved in an arboreal museum.  Each tree is candied over in clear icing, the pines stand like tall fluffy blondes, the willow tree...

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bluesy blurbs 
    of
brumal 
    blackness
      its 
  crawling 
clasps
   of 
silvery 
  gnawing
    below 
 ...

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There lies my heart,
          Quite ragged, torn -
               My father passed
 ...

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Wan is the hiemal world outdoors, 
The biting breeze blows bitter,  
like a blizzard building in momentum, 
Cold creeps in through the closed windows,
But his harmonic heart is happy and warm, 
touched by tantalizing...

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In Spring there’s friendship that’s lasted through the Winter,
all those cold nights of salted drops and quilts of snow.
The obsidian plague of midnights, melancholic drapes,
but all the while the candlelight of friendship did glow.

you’d think...

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* For Jessica Alba ... and the splendor of her smile. *


Oh, the enigma of her face ...
    Its melting mysteries and moody veneers
     When sad, like a...

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Oh haste, brumal mists, that twilight kisses
          on hollyhocks, meadow-born,
     Sweet tears resurrected on petals neglected,
      ...

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Written: April 05, 2024

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perched delicately on the shiny cobalt.
The...

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On silent lonely nights
When the moon is shining bright,
your thoughts fly stealthily by.
Must accept the truth, though with a sigh,
we're poles apart, better savor the times 
we had, both good and bad.
You've touched my life...

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oh, heaven …

the enigma of her face ...
its melting mysteries and moody veneers -
when shadowy and despondent
like a brumal, aching, mist-muddled beach
wild tresses framing it
like a surf-swept seaweed
sandy spindrift
left tossed by her squall
then …
the haze...

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A drop of water spun from its cause
Spilled into the ocean bewildered of its loss

“Won’t you tell me what the angels sing?
To forget sorrows and follies against the summer wind
Through October’s fall, and winter’s squall
Onto...

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swift, swift, the rills do run
          swift, from high the mountain
               swifter,...

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Dawn is not yet rested upon the tree tops.
The ancient night of our souls lingers
protracted in the adamantine winter.
Dew buds are unmelted; 
the road is swallowed up by dark.

Yet this time above all others is...

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