What artist chiseled you?

What stone birthed you?

What dream gave you

soul, and who dreamt you?



What levin cracked you?

What rivers eroded you?

What iron painted you

red, and who dreamt you?



What winters withheld you?

What springs undressed you?

What summers promised you

fall, and who dreamt you?



What pain makes you?

What time keeps you?

What things did you

dream, and who dreamt you?

Savor these hard times,
Cherish every drop,
For one day they'll be
far past and behind.

Joy is warm and sweet,
Anger burns the tongue,
Sadness makes its case,
Dressed in smoky char.

Let the others eat
portions meant for kings;
I am far too well
With the bits I find.

I share my bed with demons.
Goblins, and Rakshasa,
And Japanese Oni
stain my sheets,
already crimson,
with red hot unrest.
They do not speak in whispers.
They do not close their eyes.
Together we lie and toss,
And think and sleep
Not a wink, not a wink!
Just listen to the
Crickets and wind and,
below us,
Hear slow, steady,
Heartbeats of
the hell they call home.

Follow sulfur incense strings,
My mercy, down to the
ninth circle of my bed.  
**** the swelter of
this under-the-covers underworld,
Drown touch-starved fires
with holy water sweat.
Suffocate a roomful of shadows,
with a fistful of light.
Guide my way to dreams.

Save me, save me, save me.

When you are not with me
I share my bed with demons.

Don't call me a volcano,
I don't want to be a volcano!
Sometimes active,
Mostly dormant,
A stiff peak with indigestion,
Birthing igneous isles
across the seas,
Starving for eruption,
Hardening.
Waiting.

Call me a hurricane,
Say it with a tremble.
Never expect me,
Dread my return.
Never dormant,
Always hungry,
Carving my path,
Landmass by landmass,
Conquering, Striding,
Devastating.

Get your facts straight
Before you call me a disaster.