Smell Memory

Because he pet the wolf
I reach out for the wild
And believe the breeze is never empty,
The maker, never tired.

A rush of nature against my flesh,
Whether dry or mistiness,
Wrinkles me a little more.
Seasons greet me, leave me for
Returning thoughts of lost rapport.

A light rain brings the sun to rest
And colors mix to blurriness.
Temperature shifts in the breeze,
Coating me with memories
Of muddy trails through silver trees.

The colors fade to black.
Weather breathes upon my back
Of past delights and missing parts,
Of lovely smells, in that I lack.

A day dream of my childhood
Moves me as a current would--
To distant places rotting fast--
Makes me wonder what will last.

Farewell

A pickle for your pocket
And the wine to whisk till turgid throfty.

The dismal spinning of your close night

Spent warm and drunken, alone by some fire.

A note, a light, a friend, a write,

Tonight!

I stir before the broken skylight.

By the road

I've followed my sorrow to its heart-blushed end.

Will He Nil He, He Goes

The tiger is drowned
As the trees bow down before
The hiss of the rain

A Swift Comparison with Little Explanation

Darkness covers the hand from the eye,
As lovers lie beside a world
Which lives in the voices that rise upon clouds
And hounds those who wander alone.
Sudden moon dazzles the blood, shining over
Shadowy trails, dividing, and the disquieted sole.

The Year of Confusion (46 B.C.)

Jupiter casts his spell

over life to blossom,

sweetly imbued with beams

and mist from mystical crevices.

This calms us down,

his contortion towards the heavens,

causing the casual sleeve

to fall and bare a dying force,

arms pale with fear,

spotted in the spire light.

Staged in spring,

the incense smells

no better than the blood on the walls

or the dead of winter.

Our jesters gesture

to confuse the farmers,

their eyes tire from fields and skies,

for fine fair-fanfares feel

as if time were alive and wild,

kicking out of control.

In this new year, chronologists grin

despite the choice

that our Kingdom rejoice

while the cold destroys us all.

Far-gone Night: Dreams by Candlelight

Evenings dealing light aloft
Beyond our sight to stars so soft.
Fitting feelings 'tween the suns
Upon those dreams where passion runs.

Purple captured among the leaves,
Little lungs to hold the breeze.
Hanging deathly silent face,
Lifeless meadow, black in space.

Supernova, mystic steam
Upon the mind of those who dream.
Dawning drowning sleep with light.
One can keep what not in sight.

Conviction While Departing the Parish

This precious counting of moments,

as bud to bloom to blossom,

grows sweeter with every breath.

I am caught in love out of the corner of my eye.

Stupefied by beauty, the unfolding of our Farther,

I wander prayerfully in the night.

What eyes! To ponder the planets and stars within,

What grace! To sway in the winded momentum of words,

What harmonious aroma! To heal my senseless heart

And by such precious sentiment alone

does happiness sustain past the moment.

Flesh will fade and locks will grey,

but the smile that shines on and binds one to another

will forever satisfy in this restless endeavor of breath.

My heart faces the moon

And from a field of silent surrender

I hunger for that shining harmony,

when I return to you.