The Hole of Some Sum

Sum of Earth, the

Dome of Birth;

Asks what Will, and of the

White Wall

Where Waterfalls fall to

The Clear Edge of Space.

Whole Of Terra, the

Infinite Serra;

Defines Being as Existing

Beneath Lights in the Sky,

Motionless Plane of the

Fathomless Why.
The Hole in some sum

Is the entirety of the Sun.


Swift to Sift

Rising anticipation, a bated breath,

hums the thrum of changes collecting

in the well of wishful dreaming.

Ankles twisting and knees bouncing,

toes upright with the hips rolled sideways,

impulse grips the cord of reaching.

More is not less if the arms are full,

empty is full of all that’s lacking.

Be still but not stagnant,

see, every day is a chrysalis

with the change being constant.

Reaping winds brings worry,

combing skies for answers;

rather to bury questions

and tread the growth for revelation

than sift the muck for a marvel.

In The Distance

Of all of thought which I forgot there lies inside that place I hide

A feeling like skin peeling after burning light has scorched the night

And when the sense makes a presence I’ll wonder will my nerves be still

Enough for now and maybe later which ever feeling may be greater

I’ll want to stay inside that place in far off worlds in outer space

Calling me back will be the wonder if I’d stayed or gone asunder

And when that time will want to climb up to the sky where I will lie

Would I be want to ever taunt the classless eye of souls that haunt

Not open eyes but closed they’ll rise to meet the shifting dreams uplifting

In the distance where I belong with great insistence proves you wrong

For I won’t return to what’s below instead bestow that up I’ll go

So try you might to bring me down and as my right I will not drown in sorrow not in pain not tomorrow not again

Just let me be as great as ever quickly cut the rolling tether of dismay before too late

Yet I digress

In the distance lies my bestest dress

The one with pearls where lace unfurls with gilded trim where red will brim creating heaps of gossamer tides in mountainous sweeps

Let the stars shine as they’ll all be mine and give light to the distance despite resistance

For if I go and not return my memory itself will burn deep in your mind an etched diamond glow encased in a vase where love would once grow but now no longer

I’ll not wonder why but wonder will you have my visage still a ghostly veil of a long lost tale

In the distance you can see me but in the distance you’re not near me

Hinge Up

a freight train night
barrels down


i wake up a burst
hit by force a thousand tons


hurt all over, pain bleeds blue
my nightgown stained hollow

a stain

cannot wash out

try to wash out
but cannot

cold, sorrow frozen thick
sharp stab in back

still, i am so still
waiting for pressure

where is pressure?

cozy first
warm first
a sudden burst
no pain worst

i stand alone dark
quiet, not quiet

a needle so thin
a thread too tight

i cannot wake up night
must not wake

fire, sting eye
feet no feel
feel feet


back to bed
bed to back

hurry, must sleep now

forget pain stain hollow
fill empty with sleep


hinge up tonight
unhinge in morning

The Plick

underneath the woodland soil

lies a buried burrow long forgotten

stones and sticks have covered well

leaves and logs guard the lair

where deep in slumber lies the plick

all who trespass with light do so freely

none shall find the hollow hallow

in memory the plick was wide awake

it roamed the earth in search of sin

and when the light cast out the dark

the plick retreated in a coil

back into the earth with all work done

the plick still chews that final sin

the one that last remained off path

and with it went the plick to den

when in the woods bring all your might

and bring with you a source of light

at any moment the plick can lunge

at any body with sin inside

fodder for the plick you shall become

wandering into the woods with darkness


All Things Good

I sit inside of quitting time

I can see the paradoxical rift,

The give, the take, the sleeping awake.

So long sweet swinging vine

Your tail would wag if I could see it,

The backward sway, the pulling away, the not today.

My mind becomes needles

Someone else’s work is better,

The itch, the constant twitch, the forward pitch.

Sounds like clouds surround me

I can never understand the dream,

The chase, the place, the steady pace.

Grinding up my feelings now

Loathing lost continents and distant stars,

The curious, the furious, the down right delirious.

Sight is feeling outside the real

This is how I become free,

The stand, the hand, the promised land.

Guile’s Beguiled Guillotine

Savvy are the wicked,
watching and waiting
for circumstance-

that moment where the atmosphere grows thick
and awareness between breaths intensifies.

In such a fog, only the essence of importance remains,
every hair stands on end-

a deadly blow is what’s to follow.

Enchanted becomes the light that does not pass go.

Stuck in a cloud like a light bulb,
intensity becomes the glory of daemons.

Angels sing the light to life,
guile keeps it tethered
in place for its purpose unveiling.

Keep your lights close and hold them dear,
box them up to keep them safe.

When the sky falls and angels cry,
daemons come to comfort the fallen.

Blades grow thick in fields of fearless anticipation.

If growth could speak, it would divulge
the wisdom of the universe.

In the dark, rocks grow where nobody’s looking.

Even the most lonely of crystals
becomes most cherished.

Lost heads look no more,
light slides on all sides.