Amid the gardens of an ancient capital
Deep in the bowels of the desert waste
Grow the flowers of immortal thoughts.
Here's a tale for the telling of three men's doom,
How they died in their foolish haste.

The north sent a warrior to find
The key words to unlocking immortality:
There would be no need then to die,
And die for love,
The flowers would provide.

The east sent a balladeer with flame red hair
To gain the wisdom of ages past:
So that he could praise God with grace for ages to come.
The youth with the shining light,
He follows the rise of the sun.

The west sent an old man wise with pain
To find hope for the generations to follow.
The wisdom: to take none for himself
In preferance to the flames of truth.
For others he sought the flowering fertility
On longevity beneath the sun.

The three men converged by chance at once
In the gardens in the desert waste
Where an emperor was believed to once have lived.
With a snarl all engaged to take for their own
The flowers, radiant in the niche.

The northman slew the balladeer's song,
The westerner's failing heart gave out.
The horror of the conflict froze the flowers,
And was so cold the northman fell as well,
Leaving everyone dead in the land of dreams.

When the queen awoke the boy had gone
Back to the flowers in the garden.
Through the window the rose scent wafted
All through the palace of forgetfulness,
One day to be the grave for three men.
Many have losttheir minds there,
And have never gotten out.
The only immortality to be found there
Is reserved for the passions once held by the dead.
Still, many seek for the emperor's rose,
Quest for the blessing knowing not
That the emperor cursed the scent with the knowledge
Of his wife's infidelity.
The flowers still grow
Amid the ruins of that ancient capital
Where many have gone
Chasing a chalice that's filled with hidden malice.
 

45.
The lonely messiah
Walks alone through the crowds
   :None die so well as the beautiful
done to show the truth of religion:
He shows the world a splendid sight,
Heaven in an earthbound body.
   She took the savior unto herself
   The birde of the crucified mind
   :moan in reply to inquiry through aching heat
Earth becomes a green curving globe
That rises up to meet the feet of the messiah
Though his journey to the father is forever uphill
An angel follows behind to assure that he does not falter.
   To touch the hand of God
   To speak with the voice of divine wisdom
   :evil say nothing true
   Sometimes words are meant in sincerity,
   And sometimes theyare judged heresy.
To know is to see the ascen to heaven,
To try to know is to dwell in hell.
The messiah walks with his soul inside out
A long and lonely road.
   None die so often as lovers.
 

45.
To Amye

Do you see me when I sit in the special room
Where I allow dreams and nightmares to rule me?
All the corners of the room taper into silence.
No more thoughts or tears will penetrate,
Instead only a vicious harmony of clear understanding.
Never, said the angel, disturb
Never let the pieces fall into place.
The more one looks the easier to find
A hidden human race.
The race obscured in song those who believe in magic carpets.
When the waters of the revolving earth seethe
No bed will rest and no song will soothe.
Take me away and as payment
One will help bear the cross the other can not hold.
Rebirth screams out a lullaby so the child can wake up,
No baby anywhere to be found,
Only a rock and sway in soft words,
Another turn of a well read page.
The song is the same as a game,
Merely a thing to occupy.
Tell me do you see me when the room revolves
Like water, and do you know my name?
 

46.
The King's Dying Memories

The time to sally forth had arrived
   :The final stage has always been set.
The colors of conflict clash on the field.
The king searches for his brother's colors.
The imminence of victory's storms sweeps the unforgiving ground.
The king is left alone to make a choice.
Left alone unsung.
In a dark and lonely corner of hell
There is no pain nor thought nor regret,
The corner where the devil dwells
With only the throb of a newly taken heart in his hand
He chooses to twist life's measured song
Freed by the sound of victory,
Awakened by the smell of battle, and blood
Raining on the earth, nourishment for the crops.
   The king's brother took the throne.
     The enemy lay crushed beneath the feet of the king
  Brother used secrecy to steal the trust of the vizier
     Their blood stained the captured fields.
     While the banners march on the king's birthright of greatness is full.
  The guards look on with amusement
   As the king's loyal advisors slump to the floor.
The king lives through to the final scene,
The triumphant procession to comfort and beauty ,
And days meant for everyone's pleasure.
   Betrayed in the pulse of nature's foul course
   The wallbetween heaven and hell ripped open
   Satan looked out at God's greatest warrior.
   The king releases his breath with deep belief
   Wretching on the interest evil expressed in his death.
   The enemy fled,
   Butthen his own brother tore out his heart with cunning.
The king's mistress was a fairy decked in silvery grace.
As she stood before his brother
She thought of the line of succession,
Her voice, "The throne is mine, I'm next in line."
In honesty the king's brother would
Too much enjoy her death to have her killed.

The guilty do not escape the ultimatepurge.
     The green earth will safeguard the safety of the king
     While he labors to draw breath and reach the final rest.
     A dagger protrudes from his chest.
   :The new king takes a vow of deceit
   To betray the ones who helped his plans,
   Not to betray would cost his master a soul.
   It must be done.
   Later the new king whispers confessions
   The walls can not bear to hear.
   Tears are shed down the marble.
   The new king vows he will never be betrayed.
   He will bend the kingdom to his will forever,
   While unbeknownst to him a mutinous storm gathers.
     The rain will cleanse the battlefield
   The rape and execution of the queen: lightning understands
   It pounds at the castle walls incessantly during her final throes.
     The palace and the wind do not recognize the new king.
     They moan the name of the parted in sorrow.
In time flames whisper the name of the new king.
They wait hungrily to meet him,
And the dark one is particularly pleased that day.
 

47.
Tragia In Finite Longing

Cast of Characters
Two writers
- nippin
- tuck
Three assorted scoundrels
- hayah! (the jiujitsu warrior)
- boo (the sculptor artist stereotype)
- bubbles (the Mexican whore, also a teacher)

Act One (a.k.a. the only act)
   Scene One (the only scene): A dark gutter filled with drunks
       (a.k.a. the living room)
Enter Nippin
N.  What ho, the waters are troubled and rolling tonight.  Methinks I'll tie off at this
      pier and soliloquize a bit.
Enter hayah! disguised as a degenerate
N.   You sir, may I anchor this storm beset ship to your pier?
H.   There is no pier sir, only me.
N.   I thought there was a pier around here somewhere.  Where did you hide it?
H.   Sir, there's no pier here, so shove off.
N.   Are youtrying to say that I'm drunk?
H.   What public speaking talents you have, drunkard!
N.   I disbelive you exist.  You very essence is crumbling under my concentration.
      All I hear is wonderful music.  I have exorcised you demon, begone so that I
      might anchor this rocking, rocking ship, and get a fix on the situation.
H.   Oh, so you like the music? I'll turn it up.  It's a new Latino band called
      Gratis Mort.  good stuff to chill out to, ain't it man?
N.   I hear a voice like the chill of realization in the pale morning, waking like
      slaves to love, and the lake of reason has frozen over while the gods play...
      No!!!
Enter boo in his ethnic artist garb
B.   Greetings, brother, how goes the struggle against oppression?
       Hey, this guy on the ground over here looks pretty bad off.
H.   He's so drunk he thinks he's on a ship.  My master told me I would have days
       like this.  Come, grasshopper, sit with the drunks and I for awhile.
N.   The sun came up on the right side today, so that made the right side east,
       But then it set right in front of me, so now I don't know where I am.
       Will this madness never end?
Meanwhile boo and hayah! are inspecting a ziploc bag full of Indonesian.
H.    Check out the fine blond stripes through this shit, man.  Oooh, baby!
B.    Yeah, no lie, no lie.  I have some hair, but nothing like this stuff.  It's like
        streams of sunshine to my vampyric artist eyes.  Happiness is here!
N.    I think I hear a company of onlookers inspecting my soul as it takes its
       first walk on the ethereal plane.  I'll conjure a web to ensnare them.
       Marlowe help me in my time of need.  Ohmramm sumstuff faustozowie!
(Nothing Happens)
H.    Wow, dude, even at the ShaoLin monastery no one could do that.  You are
        wasted!
B.    (welding a sculpture not far away)
       Watch the metal buck as the welding torch approaches.  The metal doesn't
       like to be welded. but, dear metal, only pain can make you beautiful.
       Ha ha ha ha!
H.   Hey ocean boy, quit trying to tie that shit off and check out the action over
       here.
N.   As if by magic a pier appears before me.  I'll tie off my ship and have some
       more ale.  Ah!
H.   Forget your ale-ments.  I'm trying to tell you we're having a religious experience
       over here.
B.   Watch as the intricate statuette emerges from the seething hot driblets
       of fire.  Ha ha ha ha!
H.   And you, keep your hands well away from me, sir.  We'll have none of that flower
      artistry pansy fecal matter around here.
Enter bubbles in her seductress garb
Bu.  (to nippin) Ooh, you are such a handsome sailor man.  Can I tie you off?
N.    Hark! A witch approaches and she is talking to me.
Bu.  C'mon, big boy, don't you remember me nippin?
N.   The witch knows my name.  How came you by my name, fell witch?
Bu.  You told me last night, big boy, don't you remember?  You told me you
       loved me and then you put on dance music.  You really knocked me off my feet,
       yankee.  You loved me long time.
Enter tuck
Bu.  You know what I want, nippin, take me.  Oh, hello, tuck.  Long time no
       fucky fucky.  I hope your woman is treating you well you big hunk of man.
T.    Well, I do expect her to get over the operation any day now.  The process has
       been very hard on both of us.
H.    No kisses for brave jiujitsu warrior from sweet Mexican chiquita.   Do I now
       you from somewhere?  Are you from around here?
Bu.  No, I'm from over there (motions wildly to the other end of the alley).
H.    Really, me too.  That must be where we know each other from.  We
       probably even went to school together.
Bu.  No, I meant I'm from over there (motions wildly again in opposite direction)
H.    Really, me too.  That must be how we know each other.
Exit bubbles, freaking out and running from the scene
Bu.  Get away from me you creep.  You don't know me! (she yells as she runs)
Exit hayah! chasing her
B.    Now, my greatest masterpiece.  Live!  LIVE!! Ha ha ha ha!
The sculpture walks out.  Boo chases it shouting
B.    No, I created you!  I gave you life!
T.     Where did everybody go?  Hey wake up, man.
Hey wake up, man...
Hey wake up, man...
A weird siren on the radio and tuck shaking him brings nippin back to his senses.
N.    Aw man, did the tape end again?
T.    Yeah, man, it's your turn to flip it.
N.    You want me to move?
T.    Yeah, man, flip the fucking tape.  What do you think I woke you up for?
N.    I don't know, fuckhead, but I was having this dream.
T.    Okay, I'll flip it.  I think it was making me hallucinate.
N.    No, okay, I'll flip it.
T.    Thanks, dude, you're closer.
And they both tripped out
The End
 

48.
The Last World Begins
The nightmare as reality 101
friend and foe one on one, students and teachers face off
this world with wondrous design
no eating or drinking signs
solids aren't good for the eye

to scholarly weak and wily hearts
calling for a savior for commerce
there is no response
it might be a call for me, I think
because the savior doesn't have a phone

the nightmare is reality
words are a reminder of the lies we have been told
about school
discipline is the path to harmony
it sounds like something an old asshole would say
while he tries to get his rocks off
only through discipline may we become one with knowledge
discipline is what they feed the war machine built by dogs

be now with no discipline or false desires
only hunger for what is yours, and partake of it freely
words have a power over time
they call you
 

49.
The Gunfighter and the Poet

All the listeners were meant to hear
One, and only one so near,
And not for love or want of goods
But only for the light inside.
Sing the words and I will play the chords,
What do you say?
"Listen closely," said the man,
He had lived through many a fight.
With six guns at his side he said,
"Live your life as if today
Might be the one you die."
He grinned and shot back his glass,
The old man needed it to calm his nerves.
Then he said in a dry, cracked voice,
"Yes, it's a good day to die
The Indians always say,
You think I'll give you some good advice,
But you shot me yesterday.
This is just the ghost of my voice,
The one that will never let you rest,
The hell you would have doomed me to
Is all yours," the old man stressed.
"So you want me to read a poem,
Sure thing is what I say,
Over and over the one I sang at home
When you shot me yesterday."
 

50.
Game or reality?
The end is in sight
No way to fight it off
The visions will come
From dreams, back to you at work,
In small steps called rote
Your harmonies and gentler notes go unsold
Do not awaken unless you want to find yourself.
Crawl.
Less of you will be there each time you wake up.
You can't breathe at night or understand
The memories of your dreams.
There is not enough air.
Breathe deeply.
You will fall into a rest of deeper remembrance
Too much to follow
Blood is communication, each cell murmurs
Look behind you, there are Jesus and the devil arguing.
To infinite eyes the sight is comedic.
Many arms catch you as you fall to the earth
Wondering about the fallen angel
The onlookers laugh.
They think this must have been your first time.
And on and on, to the end too awake,
Such a silly game we play.
 

51.
Forever Now
For now and a lifetime
I'll hold you, crushing your heart
Only to hear your sigh that soothes a lullaby
In broken tones at first
The sound of pleasure builds like a flame
Eyes glaze over with desire
To taunt another tortured soul with false promises of repression
The unbearable, sick sense of freedom
The relationship is doomed, are we free?
Don't tell the truth.
A serpentine caress of will misdirected,
Lie, break religions chains,
The coils are kind.
Truth is adequate for the meek
But is a fetter for the stars.
Tell no truth aloud, but mouth your deceit.
Sigh, we are alone,
Unable to break time
Forever as we both know.
 

52.
The Hierophant's Hell

Now proclaimed destructor of a million souls
Exit from the eyes of the world
Down into the blackened chamber
Meant to conceal an ancient god,
There will you prosper on.
The flames of candles will light your way.
Now deafened by the turn of an unseen key
The thief of all things good,
The liver of the lie,
Tread on the cross and make death come too soon,
The tight rope has left you overbalanced.
Your feet bruise and bleed on the crossing.
Pain lights the path you tread.

Onward, said the angel, no use to turn and see,
You'll find only the eyes of your victims.
The dense sound of the trumpet of triumph rings out
And the hierophant falls to the father of all knights,
The welcomer of the trinity.

The hierophant meets hiscreator and has no excuse
But that the universe is an old home,
Any might stumble over old gods' lies
Then by the new be cut to the bone.
 

53.
The Wizard's Demesne

Alive in the cold north,
the wind persecutes warmth endlessly.
The wizard cast a spell
To tread from his home to his wife's in hell
So he could stand over her and gloat.
The snow falls, covering the tracks of fresh blasphemy.
The sun craves to be set free,
To lavish on the earth love and loyalty,
But the magician keeps her locked away,
Too cold to forgive her for her warmth.
When he gets there he finds
She broke loose from her plight.
When he leaves hell
Spring immediately grips his sight.

The wasp stings, 'tis true,
While the butterfly goes from flower to flower.
It hopes for the motherlode of pollen,
But fears capture in some witch's net.
The truth as it can be seen:
Life in the frozen waste can be,
But no wasted life has ever been free.
If the devil holds no mysteries
Best change so that none will mistake thee,
Or move away to the cold north
Where people will think your red eyes are caused by the cold.
 

54.
Triumph set my mind on fire,
Why she did it for me I'll never know.
Soon minstrels will sing of me and play the lyre
With words that paint me with a heroic glow.

If the world could be sent to the heavens
Triumph and I could meet eyes
And she could be thanked.
Hey eyes twinkle like the sparks when Thor's hammer
Was forged far down below,
Sparks that singe dark hearts.

Destiny has wings.
There are no reasons for flights of fancy but pleasure.
On a flight through the heavens at night
Who can tell the maker from machine
Or the forge from the first awesome fire.

The star darkened on the day of victory.
Triumph caused my ego to swell.
Though my mind flew for her
Why she withdrew we'll always know,
Though to the answer comes a queston or two.
The shell of the snail is home,
A definition that fits the case.
 

55.
Taken by the Turn

Taken by the turning up of another falling angel
I asked her what she could mean to me
Smiles and surprises, but nothing meant to be seen,
So she giggled and did notknow.
Thrown to the edge by her symphonic laugh
I asked her again to see
So she turned on the light and looked at me
With a longing of certainty.

It takes one such as Ionger
To see the truth behind your lies.
For between us is only a wandering eye.
If affection could be shut off and sanity turned on,
Honesty would be much harsher and apparent.

I have no desire to cloud judgment of character.
The answer is plain
In the darkness tinged with splotches of my psychic pain
That my love given is not returned
And maybe was never meant to be.
 

56.
To Jennifer
Ghost of Love

Thoughts of purity spring unbidden forth
At the sound of her voice: a girl's best thorn.
Morning, the home of the only sure bet.
Wake up, the big hand reads now.
Forge a new identity, but treasure the old.
My pleasure is, and always will be
In the mind's devoted flow.
"What do you think of me?" I asked
And "Now" was all I heard,
But when all was done and said,
I didn't have time to put down my pen
And take the girl back to bed.
 

57.
How can one ignored by many
Escape from the sickly tentacles of society
Born at the lowest level
Of this perfect, modern utopia
the enemy exists
shunned by brother and countrymen, forsaken,
cursed to have an opinion, and not afraid of death
but wary of physical redemption
how can one
when the sickly tentacles actually try to show concern,
But fail, and are slimy,
Yucky things.
 

58.
The west wind rose up to seek out the paradise that was my refuge, allowing me to hear my own voice as the eddies backed up upon each other in the presence of the Wind Master.  The mountain city holds no secrets from the wafting currents, the wind carries all confessions but its own.  In the cool currents the city and I make a testimonial to the place the gods would call home were they of the earth.  The magic of the mountains gives motion to the oceans of language, just as the waters from whence they came spawned words to praise their tall children.  The sun behind the peaks will be there after man has gone, after religion and superstition and everything else.  I came here to find a passage to heaven, and upon arriving found such inclines lay all around.
 

59.
The Death of Another Planet

Another small world melts
It was previously white and black, beautiful.
Fire burned the clear vision away.
Water forced steam out of the rock,
Releasing the strong scent of the end.
It was a small world, but smaller still
The children's hands that sought to reassemble it:
Destruction of the divine terrain was an accident,
They said, they never thought it would happen so soon.
Now all that remains beneath the moon:
Flames and toil and bitter doom,
More refined by far than the factory swill
They pumped out for centuries.
After their small planet was gone
The rotten corporate heads wished they had another.
 

60.
Did you hear my anthem, little girl?
I wrote it from a dream of a free nation,
Each crescent note carved from humanity
In the struggle of wills;
The force of liberty barely prevails.
Can you see our ancestors bleed for this
In the days when muskets and knives were everything?
In today's world when the people are tricked by simpler tunes
That discount the blood of ancestors.
The simple song says that no children perish
Under a tax insured dominion.
the only mystic faith to the scheme
Flows from the touch of the fair hearts who believe.
the songs were meant to make life better,
But then the fairy tale grew too powerful.
Even agents of the simple lie
Think the songs are true sometimes.
For complicated songs and gloom I long,
So this is my anthem to grander dreams
On which our nation was founded,
Stone by stone,
Until the weight of the rock could no longer be moved
By even the great visionaries.
The freemasons who set the cornerstones
Live forever with the credit of knowing
That a future generation would attempt usurpation.
Of all the fine notions they wrote out
When they knew that to write the might constitutionally limit.
Interpret at will their original intentions
Because it will long stand,
the constitution just a formality between men
And their almighty God,
The only true ruler in every land.
 

61.
Musician of criminal mystery,
Paradise can be held in your hand.

The doppleganger must grow
As the winged snake knows.

Alexandra and her husband died,
Murdered as they begged for their lives.
Peter and Ivan Illyich died as well.
Did sympathy kill them or were they killed
By the candle light in which Marx wrote.
A revolution made by wicked men.
Such a share of madness, who could know?
Rasputin never boasted his strength.
The four men who killed him
Knew his poison wasn't treason,
But a venom much more personal to the Czarina.
Rasputin was a psychic rapist.
He strung his lovers out with crystal clear promises,
Later twisted into social humor
For the huge man's leisure activity.
Gurdjieff could never strip skin from the bone
Quite the way Rasputin could, with his eyes.
The wealth of the stars is only a trick of the light,
Rasputin's eyes were a heavier presence,
The craziness in them a delight to the wealthy,
Secret ingredients pinpoint shine.

The doppleganger begins life as one creature,
Then turns inside out to become another,
As the winged serpent knows.

The thief of innocence
Can never grasp paradise.
 

62.
Choler's enraged hue
Shifts angers point of view
Wielding only stolen holy thoughts,
Thoughts of lost paradise.
Regress, redress not hate but love.
Never loved, strongly unsated, so above
Sanctimonious prim, prissy kisses,
Blushes trust blushes through and through,
Still hunger, yearn, much longer, the truth,
Words stave the inevitable, usable without usury,
Love is untouchable by malice aforethought,
But is coaxable, the only hope for the hunter
Used to killing what he wants.
Coarse disgust is so easily identifed,
Noises are so innocent,
But the bias here is evident,
Heaven sent opportunity,
Panting without ill will, exhausted,
Hell bent, racing to gain admiration,
Although too quick to gain a seasonal expression of emotion.
The words of the quest own treason,
They are blamed instead of yourself.
Innocence is no longer a good way to pass time.
Over and over, with nothing to prove,
Choler helps hide lust,
A certain sign of toolittle trust
In compromise between two people eager to please,
Through vision, of course to impress,
For a lovely reader, no less,
What could there be that should be confessed?
 

63.
Ready
To sweat a rat making shifty observations
Shake down that boy and you might get a demonstration.
If you think you can rap or fight try that guy,
Lots of people do it,
And lots of people die.
You'll fight for your life
With a man twice as strong.
A punk with a knife or a gun
Can't hold out long.
So the warning's been spoken.
try to maybe think
Through the sly nudge and wink.
It's time to wake up
After a week of observation
Sweatin' rats that expose our dark corporation.
The coward has his jokes
And his natural dopes,
Spreads his poison with live wires and rope tricks,
Looking to take down any cash customer.
Frowning you go down
Without a sound
They don't care if you end up in the ground.
try to prove it and they smile
For they have nothing, senor.
Rhythm in the deal
Is the coach that will train you,
And style is the dealer's only hope, no lie,
Only one reason,
Bank
Someone can see it
Hit me, twenty-one, over the top,
A big game in a big world,
Who does the nation have on the run,
The stay awake hustlin' hum drum?
Victory sits down, quietly at first,
So don't worry, have a toke,
The pick is in the bag,
The trickis in a clean getaway.
With no one around to fight
Why be mean at all?
Watch that bad ass rapper and how hard he falls,
SUCKER.
 

64.
The mirror of absolutes
Like a cube of undisturbed water
Suspended it shimmers,
until eyesight reaches the chained edge of reality.
Smoke seems tolinger there.
Follow a single wisp until
It becomes a wave of sensation
Where shimmer meets ether cognition is buried
The realm is neither here nor there.
The mirror reflects not only form, but thoughts.
It forms a labyrinth of pathways to explore.
From the eyes to the mind, and in between,
A place only souls can go,
The bridge from the mundane to infinite possibility,
Which is real, the reflection or the body?
Which frame contains the real you?
With the body left behind like a baby in a crib
The spirit floats in soft freedom
Before it falls back into place in the blink of an eye.
Like the sound of wings from a huddle of birds,
To get out is to get in,
Words sneak farther away from meaning,
Until my breath is stolen like a shock.
For a second I feel myself floating
Before I fall back into my body.
It was electric.
Sobriety returns quickly in the wake of the experience,
it says to me, "Come away from that place,
Such things aren't meant for man's mind."
 

65.
Theseus unstrings his bow.
His quiver is filled with poisonous arrows.
He sets his feet moving to the west.
Unconcerned, the winds four quarters
Move his hair and elate his essence.
He does not care that a dragon follows close behind,
Today is a good day.

(The story pits the hero true
Against reptilian spit, foul brew)

Reading blurrily of Theseus thoughts leave you.
You are bored to tears with stale heroes.
Sleep takes you while the book is still open.
The dragon slays Theseus.
It happened just after you dozed off.
 

66.
The dark day creeps
Like watered soil seeps
Through mind and bones, rheumatically,
As through roots and stones
Siring illness
Adding to its own strength.
Rules to a complicated game display intricacy
With pride in their creator.
To delve in the gloom too deeply
Weakens, you reach out feebly.
Like an over watered tree
I can see death coming from a long way off,
So this is an epitaph, my own,
For in belief dwells safety.
 

67.
In case of an accidental suicide
Shed no tears
You once held so dear.
Only God's mind knows wrong from right,
Truth from beauty.
Written duty:
Show the trouble and strife of life
So that quick learners may avoid such things.
Language kisses not the words
Necessary to describe the vows of the spirit,
The pledges made during confession.
Words are a prison.
Love, so indefinable,
The only compensation available.
 

68.
Division of Sin
Department of Law Evasion
The government bodies in this world
High positions to be chair
With morals bent for personal reasons
Bugger off the rules until another day
For Misery follows no guidelines.
 

69.
Forever and then Some

The queen's demise:
Her back is to the wall
And the sword is in my hand as I try to protect her.
The siege engines knock down the wall.
The sound of thunder accompanies her cry
As the stones crush the once just matron.
No soul is left to wonder
What her guards meant by do or die,
I the last in this corner of purgatory,
The last to breathe, to wish the queen well.
In the heat of the fray a song comes to mind,
A song of our lost kingdom.
I pray that the enemy will kill me soon
So that I can gaze again upon my queen in heaven.
Her face stares back at me.
My heart returns to the feeling of ocean swells from long ago.
The cold wind whips harder.
Once the queen had sat with her back to the wall
So no entry by a courtier could be a surprise.
Her dignity followed her to the grave.
The endless flow of blood spurs me on.
All that I have left is killing, killing.
Somehow I can not feel the pain
As a spear finally pierces my chest,
But I know as I stand before the throne,
Te queen's last champion.
A moment before I was surrounded
But now bodies lay all around.
I raise a glass to my lips and drink
To the Queen!
May we all live forever and then some!
 

70.
The window never closes.
It is better left that way.
This was better left unsaid.
Open currents lead to dead air.
Static.
Certainly you may pass, for a toll.
On, then, to uncertainty,
Let it be known the closing nears.
The dead air carries indiscernable voices.
What was it you asked?
The water drips into the room
But the window will stand open,
It never closes during the reign.
Accosted.
Suddenly I realize I never mentioned anything.
The middle rewrites itself again and again.
Leave no stone unturned while you look here for meaning.
I know it must be around here somewhere.
Leave hinged no swivelling note,
Twist these accusations for a bitter juice.
I wonder where there is to go.
Water fills the streets
And all my good plans come to nothing.
 

71.
Four Dusty Seasons
One Gorgeous reason

Turquoise dust settles in the young lady's hair.
It is blowing in the wind.
A crux of toppled boulders in the far wings of periphery
Have fallen together to fill a ravine.
Silver encrusted with brilliance
Nestles against her soft skin.
The blet is wrapped loosely,
Slung over hips all too aware they are being observed.
Sunset winds, the glowing embers spark,
Within the tense soul time winds out,
The only positive effect of the crystal whiskey shot glass.
Hard, dry earth is perfect to lay on
With a lithe sense of satisfaction.
The sandy carpet orients well to frames.
Burdenless suggestions ease the hurt of the cracked lands,
A gift from the dainty brunette with sun bleached tones.
Her eyes reflect the chaparral in aquamarine.
Within her blue jeans she is petite but svelt.
Refill the crystal shot glass one more time
To assure warmth in the desert night
Beneath all the stars in heaven.
 

72.
An inside to an inside
Boy this joke was dandy
Certainly a feeling of enclosure
Brought this joke tolife
Casually i commit
Form and posture
Forget we knots
Unfold and free
Begin, evaluate
Give in, discern,
Commit, unlearn
Escape, derive
Describe alive
Soon much later than now
sound is much harsher somehow
Mister calm
Don't let your fever break the thermometer
Loose threads
Tidied ends
Shucks, just go away
nobody needs you around here anyway
I can't believe you would read
This unplanned juggernaught
A formidable literary program
Impossible to debug
Designed to leave you with drool hanging from your lip

The End