The sailing Sun
Burns through the sky
With huge clouds of black and purple
Hot on her tail.
We all pray that she beats them to the horizon,
That we might remember this day as a beautiful one.
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
O heart, soul, core, me:
If I do exist,
I am exactly pristine in condition
Under the surface of a pond
Frozen in eternal ice.
O want, wish, will, dream:
The ice that denies life,
Sapping its oppressive strength,
Transforming its innocent weakness;
Making brittle the bold,
Making hard the soft.
O form, frame, flesh, face:
The palm of my hand
Is spread against the bottom of the ice,
Reaching up as though to grasp
All the nothing I aspire to.
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 4:07 PM UTC
First I was disgusted:
It was you that I despised,
And now my edge is blunted:
I am terrible in kind.
Nov 1, 2023
Nov 1, 2023 at 5:46 PM UTC
It's said of Jesus' loving arms:
"Within the storm, the eye, the calm,"
Then why is what I've seen of him:
My brothers brought to harm?
Oct 28, 2023
Oct 28, 2023 at 5:05 PM UTC
The sun shone down,
Red from smoke in the sky,
Yellow from dust hung in the air.
Then the storm came.
The sky went grey,
The trees blew bent,
Torrents beat the ground into mud.
Then the storm passed,
And the sun shone down
From a wind-cleared blue sky
Through air rinsed clean by the rain.
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 3:12 PM UTC
Do as you might, you
Cannot sully the beauty
For me; you'll add some.
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 3:57 PM UTC
For what is work?
To be complete.
What is strength?
The death of defeat.
Love, as well,
Is to rest one's feet.
Forces and their ends
Must meet.
Then I ask you,
What remains past death
A worthy edifice to seek?
Oct 11, 2023
Oct 11, 2023 at 2:48 PM UTC
Love is more than tender words!
Love is to have spoke them first.
In love, which many feel to all,
Still one before another falls.
Is love the 'life' and 'death' in dance;
A shield that not let either pass?
Know that love drives every hand,
So 'love' met 'love',
And razed their lands.
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 3:27 PM UTC
One hundred men gather to decide their king.
They bring their minds and gold together;
They weave a crown of rope with gilded string,
Then, quietly, it lay before them in the grass
The first man moves to seize the rope,
"See your king with rope in grasp!"
Another comes and yanks it back, "I brought more gold than you!"
Another comes, and another still, 'till every man has seized the rope,
Until it wrapped around the throat of someone in the feud.
"Hold! We've gone too far," said the man whose throat was caught.
The rabble of the hundred men ended as it came,
And each the golden rope held firm; one-hundred men had pulled the knots.
The man who brought the most gold said to the one who seized it first,
"I'd rather you, the first to take the rope, be king!"
The first to lift it said back,
"And I that it were any of you!"
Feb 8, 2020
Feb 8, 2020 at 6:41 PM UTC
That of you inside my ears
Was hard to hear, but ever-clear.
That of you 'come out the mouth,
Was easy-heard, then brought more doubt.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC