Sol berating as a life ill-chosen upon the brain,
witches brewing wicked and
pecans withered before the mast.
Inscrutable my heart and
young,
too many winters and
throat shot for the trying.
Too high in the mix sit the toms.
The pianist has too much vibrato, but
yet time passes, the
moments dripping from destiny as
so much blood.
Crown me the body emergent,
O Muse! and
allow my [...]

Do not mistake me glorious.
Though my flesh breathe and my visage be fair and though
I speak with the tongues of angels, the
forsaken ossuary balm
pervades the absence of worth.
A hollow place,
hidden,
less eagerly searches, and accepting
                                                  bows
                                                          its
                                                              head
                               and the cup of resignation runneth over.
Dark the morning and
hapless the heartache, the unrequited guessing of a
farewell or a greeting.
Mellow in the [...]

A scintillating forge of memories.
                        arcing ageless
Distant the vision                     to evenstar horizons,
  my grasp outreaching -
 fingers of dying light in chorus
eternal.
Never the gleaming cadence.
Tempered. Quenched.
An omen still phantom
 for all the years of searching,
  and deeper now
                        and urgent
                        returns the endless query.
The forging.
The forging.
The forging.

Swallowtails airily dancing above
{high-flown sentiment,
lofty outlines -
noble plan of campaign}
young eyes awash in past victory.
Would that lines ever stood fast.
Would that eyes ever beamed bright.
Would that eyes never beheld
ears never caught
heart never knew
the handiwork of too high an aim.

Precipice abrupt.
The deep howls itself wide,
jarring derision.

Visions darken,
soothingly star-blankets winking, the
voices of earth calmingly
bearing the descending cup of evening to her intended.
The poet Alambil (with) Tarva the huntress
beacons to the chosen,
shimmering descant damascened in hemispheric sable
and the warrior guards.
Amid the gardens of forever vanity
mouths the query but
pregnant pauses the respondent and ashamed while the
lost children tell no tales.

Stone-wrought visages
weathered
by the storm,
lining the lane leading
to the
groves of death.
Like statues in the gardens of dreaming,
each face a lifetime singing -
promises exchanged and tales.
Glances kept downward,
eyes glazed but hopeful -
for recognition thirsting.
Ever the path pursuing,
fruitless journey:
turning away,
turning away.

Mahogany in his nostrils, smooth-polished beneath his fingertips that sit beside the cold glass. The sounds of a land across the water, the bow sweet-stroked over the strings and the bright voice ringing. Curious that so strong an association arises, unknown as they are. Neither are they of his own place and his own sounds, [...]

The End Of The World
I will outlive my words.
Mightier than the sword?
(To your god, perhaps - all
far-off and removed; unconcerned.) No.
Violence shall split the land
asunder. The deep drowns the dawn.
A wry smile from the groundlings.
Scrabbling for papers, we
push, shove, and generally
degenerate.
A caw of victory from me, at least:
I put someone’s eye out
before I died.
.
Cold
chaotic [...]