Long Monoliths Poems

My physical self is pitiful

I have been incapacitated since an early age

Inadequate in every regard

My body is a useless shell

Luckily, this place is beyond basic physicalities

This place transcends the grim and darkness of reality

This place...

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      In the purple shadows of the black's monoliths, where an ancient echo calls forth, at the blurry forge of "Ralkon Dis",
a salient dragon from mystery's petra cliffs drifts you...

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Marching out of the cloaked shires
Of landowners, stockbrokers, 
Hereditary Peers, and ruddy faced 
Squires:
A vast multitude of many varied 
Tribes.
Amassing in the great cities, where,
Inhabiting shadowy chambers, 
Behind nodding sighs and hushed 
Whispers, 
The Masonic...

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I Send This Letter, Like A Message
Drumming Like Earth’s Hearts-Tribal
It Is A Lover’s Letter To You
Sent Like A Heaven-Sent Bible
Filled With Love –Just Like A Bible

My Lovely One –I Know Its Been Hard
During Our Separation
Its...

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Sitting here at my desk
Two hundred meters above
I watch the bustle of life below.
The slow moving traffic, the crowd at lunch-time
Pedestrians at the traffic lights
Heavy blue-black glass blocks towering to the skies.
 
In this austere...

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The spearheads are keeping a tight formation,
pride keeping the body upright,
raking claws are sometimes raking home,
they find their way past sagging shields.
What deep wounds these claws do cause,
yet bloodied these spearheads do stand,
needle-sharp pain ne'er...

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The road to my backyard is long and straight
Evergreen trees abound and provide welcome shade
Home to myriad birds, butterflies and the bees
Last summer their branches were sawn off, without notice
The orgy with power-saws lasted barely...

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Mountains

As I look out from my window
I see there are mountains for me to climb
I would not much like to ignore them
But there waiting there for me; all the time

And though their boulders seem so...

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Manhattan Soliloquy

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the...

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...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

8/27/16



Just had shrimp and grits
Beside scrambled eggs whipped up with a whisk

Been a long time since
I've had some fish and chips


Went on many different trips
Some of which
Were on ships
And others were above waterfalls and cliffs

Back...

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...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)

 
As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)
   

As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic,...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)


As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises of
a...

Read More

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)


As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises of
a...

Read More

That room; 
And the bathroom too, 
She made them alien territory. 
My petty sentiments kicked in, 
And made me a slave to my roommate. 

The scented atmosphere, stockings; 
Frilly brassieres in plain sight, 
And blouses...

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...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932)


As I dream the sounds of morning sliver,
cut my senses; slow, persistent slices
pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness.
The muffled cries of merchant hustle and
the honking of the traffic, the noises of
a...

Read More

Frigid metals twist like 
Banshees in shriek,
Making all who hear it fear it's threatening speech.
Cognitive cogs, turning out torture-
instigating further madness noir.
Pale green and gold in it's likeness.
Promulgated sickness.
Rusted iron dust to waft in the...

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Watch the sun appear
On this Solstice clear
Over Stonehenge monoliths.
Sing the sacred song
Honoring the throng
Of the ancient spirit’s gifts.

Let the sun stand still
As we feel the thrill
Of Midsummer’s energy.
Summer has begun
Now our hearts are one
As we...

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I
Twisted chains bite deep
Terrorizing the flesh
And making it cry

A small beam of light
In an otherwise dark room
All that one could cling to

The steady drip, drip, drip
But the light provides little warmth
In the face of biting...

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