Child monk Full of sin What does it matter! blissfully oblivious God cradles you A footpath lifts you above the ravine A gentle breeze kisses your cheek A tumult gusts in the tree tops merely to thrill your devilish little heart
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Vault of Heaven
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It was a hard winter though it rarely froze In a pleasant, desperate search I walk the entire park for respite A tuft of purple crocuses The sniff of a dog Little waterfalls The bend of the river Will it be enough? Intuition indicates the right path I hesitate, but take it Such a long walk — for what? and to go the whole way — it's getting late I reach the horses’ ring The naked woods are on fire The bold sun hovers atop the hill yonder, its rays a kaleidoscopic crown, as if waiting for me the whole time
Blazen Rites
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Mercifully temperate summer days glide into autumn. The footfalls of my vintage recently-purchased Doc Martens sandals advance on air. The pedals of my quaint just-restored Bianchi Parco churn in silence.
Good ol’ days
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Oh my god,
(my lover?)
You swaddle me
in bounty.
Why do I rebel?
My heart —
which you fashioned —
burns.Confession
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A lacerated heart, scar-encrusted, still bleeding, (oh, where does the blood go?) is still a heart, still a heart, still a heart,
Patient
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To you, it is a game; To me, life and death; To be alive, caught in your gaze, bandied about by your banter: a predicament worth dying for.
Tom and Jerry
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I go on tumblr for pornography: the beautiful kind, the breathtaking kind, the crumpling kind. Over the months I had my smattering of likes: the ones I gave my heart to. One tumblr led to another which led to another, Till that one night I stumbled on that heavenly site: Each post stunning, each post stole my heart, and it was endless. I am cured.
Saved
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And thus the Lord created Adam and furnished unto him Eden And Adam plucked the fruit too early And, lo, Adam was dismayed and he called unto the Lord “Lord, why hath thou forsaken me? “I have tasted of your fruit and have found it hard and bitter.” The Lord saw before Him the morning of His Glory — Perfection in every blade of grass, every seed, and every hair on Adam’s head. And the Light of God’s Grin shown upon Adam “Adam, it is your own fashioning. “And I assure you: there is not a bad thing in Eden, not even your fashioning.”
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I sought and sought until it all became Hocus Pocus; then I realized it always was.
Abracadabra
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A mountain of blue-gray looms over the dark horizon bouyed by a soft expanse of pink and the delicate, ruddy strip of peaceful, glowering foothills
falling away to twilight