The price is paid, the blood is shed..No
devil in hell will make our bed.' The pearl
Once purchased cannot be sold.' No one
Should start again the refrains, dead and
Old.'
Or strew such
Treasure before the pigs..Who tear the
Soil and but shallow dig.' Who grunt at
Wisdom.' And scream at the wind, that
Blows ill or good..What matters it them.?
All for the slaughter, act like this, as unholy
Demons shudder and hiss, they stir up the
Wars and all thats amiss.' Remove our
focus from such; I àsk you Lord' may peace of the spirit bind all Jesus's people in one direction; mind and accord.!
I scale the jagged crags on wings of whispered verse,
and strew my path with beauties freshly born.
Unhindered I invade the marble palaces,
armed with weapons forged within this mortal frame.
I draw the gleaming sword from its ancient sheath,
and pierce the tyrant’s heart with keenest blade;
I sever every cable of his fragile throne,
and watch his trembling empire fade to shade.
Like eagles I ascend on currents of pure thought,
where coruscating gleams of insight dance and play.
I drink the silent music of the waking world,
and roam through fierce, uncharted shades in search of hidden jewels.
Though pulses quicken with the chill of fear or doom,
I stand caparisoned in courage, undismayed.
I see vast legions trapped within their frantic race,
blind to the filth that stains their fleeting days.
Oh, that they might awaken while the ink still flows
how brief the hour, how vague these shadowed moments!
Yet poetry, in her quiet majesty,
captures but a chosen few, and lets the rest drift on.
First love
It was a day in May
I was a cook at a hotel, my first
job after graduation
and the first, in our family
with proper training
I even got a certificate, it
had my name in big letters
Then, I was full of myself
I met Greta, who was the one
cleaning pans and plates
We fell in love
Never did I know that love
could be so sweet
It was like nature was on our side
flower-scented and trees
strew green leaves on our path
A summer has an ending
I had gone away to see my mother
who lived in another town
She was not at the railway station
to meet and autumnal light
The trees faded, shedding brown leaves
A love story was over
heartbroken, I joined the Navy
Now that I'm old, she is the one
I remember
The promise
A friend of mine died, and I had promised to
Take his ashes up to a hill and strew them there
Then make robust love to his wife
His wife sat by his bedside and agreed
We climbed the mountain and gave his ashes to the wind
Then we had lunch at a fine café, talking
about what a great friend he was
Driving to my house, we became a bit silent
In the house, we drank some more, and I knew that
I could not get an ********, nevertheless
We tried to honor his wishes; we failed utterly
She had stomach cramps, and I had no ********
We had both drunk a lot of wine for this
purpose fell asleep
In the morning, we drank coffee, and I drove her
to her house, and we are best friends forever
I think his plan worked
What I see in stars above is extremely wearisome,
with useless inane details that I wish I never knew.
Light years, space-time, black holes, big bangs,
myriads of pricks 'n specks a billion miles away - who cares?
I've been over-dubbed, deluded, and robbed,
of the romance, songs, stories,
and delightful spiritual legends
that ancient master star gazers saw
in stars above.
Hunter and archers with sword, belt, arrows and shield,
A veritable zoo of animals - lion, ram, bull, bear, llama, emu,
goat, scorpion, fish and severed heads, under arms.
Pots and pans, the scrub-a-dub dish that
ran away with the spoon.
Regal Heracles, Achilles and Troy in battles raging skyward
Bickering Gods, Virgins, Kings and Queens with kids and twins.
Action-men Pharaohs, wannabee Gods,
leaping from pyramid tops,
onto the ladder of the Milky Way, which is -
The River of Heaven, Road of Souls
The Spilled Breast Milk of Hera the Mother God
The seed-strew pathway the mighty Emus trod,
pecking their way,
In stars above.
We all should get out and look up more!
Gazing with ancient eyes into the sky above,
reveling to see and enjoy what they saw,
in stars above.
These new poems are my fresh thoughts,
In those thoughts, my dreams stand and shout.
Striving to solve the riddles, they strive,
My soul always hungers for something new to thrive.
This poem is a page of my life,
A crown still rests upon my mind's strife.
When I burn with the day I once knew,
In its place, only ash like snow will strew.
The new poem – secrets never heard,
You yearn to share in my every word.
How will you find the ashes of my mind,
When my thoughts have burned, leaving no trace behind?
Falling Autumn leaves brashly wave goodbye to Summer
And strew the pathways with emeralds, rubies, and gold.
Radiant beauty engages the land in mummer
Encouraging Summer to relent and let loose its hold.
Watching with glum expression and immodest dress,
Eventually losing the tug-of-war with the chill cold.
Life and death become the drum to which She will bend
Leaving the breathless Wind time to nimbly mend.
Tomorrow She moves forward
Onward from time borrowed.
Sulking away with dried diamonds
Until Autumn’s auric sky explodes
Mindfully exposing Her horizons.
Memory of Summer implodes.
Efficacious efforts of Her victory,
Reign of Autumn’s golden glory.
The world where I do not exist
is only a heartbeat either way
A flicker of light
a trickle of tears
blue turns into (grey)
And it is grey
not black or white
A void without permission
or invite
Oblivious and comfortable
the great filter be
Forgettable too
in absence of memory
Yet into the grey I go
to a realm of nothingness
A world with no woe —
Infinite in empty ignorance
Energy becomes of me
an atom-less mass of entropy
Stretching, pulling
Rising, falling
upon waves of gravity
Outside of time
only spontaneity
in this world
where I strew
Malleable, gaseous, shapeless,
Infinitely complex,
intrinsically simple
Diffusion spirals inside infusion
across a pulsing eternity
For the greatest time
I never had
A netherworld
that does not know sad
This world where I do not exist
precedes and succeeds me
Come what will
Come what may
From where I come
I go back today
A spasm, a twist
a breath, a death
a cycle anew
No void to view
With nothing else to do
til the grey
burns back to blue
The threat of rain’s kept folks away,
But out here by the river,
The sparrows flock when I sit down,
To see what I’ll deliver.
I never feed them, but I guess
That other humans do
And so they hop around my bench
In case some crumbs I’ll strew.
When minutes pass, they flit away
To find another source
As I gaze out at choppy waves
While feeling no remorse.
For the love of fame
I loved cows sent from the children's home
to a farm because I was in opposition
My job was to milk seven cows in the morning
clean their stalls, muck out, and strew
straws so they could lie down and not be mucky
Cows are clean animals if you see a dirty one
it is because they are neglected
by human helpers
It was not easy to be a cow in Norway
the winter
is long they had to stay indoors till spring
they were interested in other things I did
I was famous I never, had had
the need to be famous again,
believe me, it makes you think that perhaps you
are great, only to realize you
are conduits for other people's problem
They are an amazing view.
There has to be a loose strew.
Imagine dogs, in line at a tree,
waiting, one by one, to pee.
What is this world coming to?
What do I eat
The same things on repeat
What to do
Should I have a strew?
What should I pursue
What will it ensue
Nothing seems to change
Its all so strange
I even complain
Always the same
The weather changes
Talking to strangers
Sometimes it can help
Confusion I've been dealt
I have an idea
It's all so unfair
I'll keep plugging along
Maybe sing a song!
small forest
The small forest or the woods by the white road
made of crushed sea-shells, was a place of enchantment
Squirrels played here and had no fear of lone dreamers
stumbling over oak roots.
I used to walk there when cows had
been milked, fed
and the mucking out was done,
fresh strew strewn
in stalls, and the barn had contented animals
I could do so many things in the forest, be an Indian or
take out my pocket phonographic book,
the milkmaid
gave me and masturbated.
especially drawn to pictures of cunnilingus women
seemed to enjoy this form of sex, I was horrified when
told this was not a manly act, ye the pleasured faces
stayed on my mind.
A year later, I drove to the forest
it was a private estate
high walls and posh villas, but the squirrels had gone
I laughed out laud
The good people in the villas will never know my secrets
here, where I dedicated and trained for a hearty sex life to come.
An edited version of my book: The Collected Work, of
Poetry, Vignettes, Humor and Political Statements
A POET’S PREROGATIVE
We right our souls as we
Write our souls because we must,
Or like confetti, the words'll bust
Out from us willy-nilly, and
Poets cannot let words simply sully out,
Cannot scatter and strew them about,
Without some kind of form
(Even formless forms like this need be).
And somehow we get it there,
Intentionally, we put it there,
For all the cosmos and universe to see.
Sharpied permanent on the Internet,
Our works, our marrow, the
Underbelly passage to our innards, the
Dark and dank and dolorous in us, the
Sun and star and silly in us, the
Topic of the day in us, we
Contest for cash and credit, and
Kilos of kudos to the winner.
But, not really all the truth, I suppose,
We have no control over the prose,
Center stage, exposed.
Red and raw and real -
Poets write to right our souls,
And no competition there;
We've, each of us, already won.
Within my depths ancient murmurs arise.
As had Phoenix, I had burned to ashes.
Yet I rise to strew the day with surprise
as I flourish in brilliantine flashes.
I am boisterous and blatantly loud
in voice and also in buff appearance.
Gregarious and bold, merging from cloud,
I fold my wings in show of forbearance.
My wings beat chill that draws color to fore,
irrefutably majestic and grand.
My winds blow promise not seen heretofore
as I spread my majesty o'er the land.
I am applauded as glorious Fall
but I shall not - I shall rise above all!
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