The butcher
in a trance
this death
then many more
The cleaver
paused in motion
destruction
to the fore

The blood
is pooling downward
in images
besmeared
Its stain
a violent crimson
tattooing life
— with fear

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

Defense of freedom
takes a courage
rare and dearly won

Through wars endured
with tyrants scourged
and despots on the run

The words in place
by Founders Ink
on parchment
closely held

As children roam
the halls of light
with precepts
— deeply felt

(The New Room: February, 2025)

Stealing your thoughts
a crime of dispassion
the penalty fatal
my name stays unknown

A larcenous caper
whose felony looming
authorities chasing
though lost will they roam

Returning your musings
a word to each notion
attached and delivered
through eyes that retake

Enlightened resplendence
unfenced by Jehovah
no borrowers promise
— this thief ever makes

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2025)

The woods never yawned
at the end of my stories
The streams never laughed
when I stuttered in haste
The mountains stood firm
when I lost my last footing
The sky understanding
in joy or disgrace

These natural things
forever behold me
Forgiving my weakness
rewarding my nerve
Their arms reaching out
through each change of the season
Pulling me onward
— my voice undeterred

(The New Room: March, 2025)

The older
I get
the more
my hunger
for knowledge
grows

The more
my hunger
for knowledge
grows
the younger
— I get

(The New Room: March, 2025)

Real education
starts
when the university
fades
in your rearview mirror
Its nihilistic
narrative
disappearing
in the mist
Umbilically
the ties
are cut
as light
comes rushing in
The wax of
dead
banal professors
— melting in the past

(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)

Worshipping
at the altar
of self-destruction
western man enshrined

Paying false homage
to every tree
the forest
in deep decline

Losing his place
among God’s creatures
to wander
far and wide

Asking flawed questions
running in place
consensus
— ill defined

(The 1st Book Of Prayers: March, 2025)