Days pass like winter winds,
But memories of ****** sins
Of prisoners mine forever live
So long as I shan’t forgive.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

Atop a bench of elm,
The throne that rules this realm,
I, judge and jury, tread
The path of justice dead.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

A soul, grieved and daunted,
By malediction haunted,
Shall drop before me, praying,
Whilst I lean in, saying,

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

“He is not I. Silence
Your foolish pleas of guidance.”
“I beg!” he shall say, “Save me!”
“Nay,” I shall say, “no mercy.”

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

His penance I shall write,
And with eyes blank as night,
The soul will gaze, pleading,
With eyes he shan’t be needing.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

Their prison is not a cell
So solace cannot dwell;
Their fate: a wall of stone
Where they shall hang alone.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

I shall place his wrists in chains
Though I have not the reins
To latch his iron locks:
He bound himself to the rock.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

With a cry of a thousand woes,
A coal black mass of crows
Will swarm the soul to feast
And eat the morbid beast.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

After which, I shall call;
A soul shall approach the wall.
He shall gaze upon my empty face
Praying for fickle grace.

IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

Pray as he shall, no salvation
Follows recitation,
For I alone decide
How far from the path he strides.

*IN HOC SIGNO VINCES

Coddling the past
“I am accused of tending to the past”

How can I lift my hands
To reach forward
If I cannot learn
To let the past run through me,
Gnash it’s teeth
And bite me
And fight me
Until I can make it succumb.
Don’t urge me to forget her
Cause she will slumber
Until she is hungry
Enough to leap out
And ******.

light through the glass / to wake whistling and shoot the
mockingbird / takes longer to warm a bed than / with two / one
and one forever / alone a promise to keep / you safe from / him
you / safe from you

in turn / the moon a wall / sunbeams penetrate blue / lively laughter
for once now / never again

joyous loops / (sensuous sputtering) to / life as we see it / but love
as we / plead remains (fault of the tried pleads guilty) /
silent

months return / in spiteful presence call / back the rain time /
rages over this landscape our / ravaged faces / weeping with
relief / as they pass

I miss you / so far from / trying to find yourself / lose your / self /
in the trees just / make sure when you / come back / to me / you
remember how wonderful life can be and why you should never
consider / leaving / when I'm waiting for you to knock on my
door

*I miss you too / and it's lonely out in / these woods but I remind
myself / replay your sincerities in my mind when I find myself /
drifting

I'll be home soon / please be there

1344

Not any more to be lacked—
Not any more to be known—
Denizen of Significance
For a span so worn—

Even Nature herself
Has forgot it is there—
Sedulous of her Multitudes
Notwithstanding Despair—

Of the Ones that pursued it
Suing it not to go
Some have solaced the longing
To accompany—

Some—rescinded the Wrench—
Others—Shall I say
Plated the residue of Adz
With Monotony.

Reality bites
       sinks long curved narrow pointed teeth into a daydream
  drags it to the ground, rips away
     flecks of joy flying in all directions
             generous splatters of hope on the wall

and it is done.

It’s okay to take risks
Here,
This dreaming threshold
Where we wander with the spirits.

You can balance upon
The narrowest ledge,
Cross catwalks
Hanging a hundred feet
Above boiling oceans of
Lava plains.

You can’t
Get hurt
Here

Go ahead,
Stick your
Hand in that strange crevice,
Put your whole arm in,
Feel around,
Discover a new mystery.
You’re safe here.

This place is magic
And you and I can actually tread
On the shimmering patterns.

You’ll know when it’s time to jump,
To leap off the edge,
To careen down to the earth.
You’ll feel it coming,
Feel it building.
We’ll carry you up,
And if you trust us
To hold you up,
If you really believe it,
Then you’ll
Fly.

Would I be as content
              if I realized my purpose?
To be told why my existence is so?
To never have a choice
              following a predestined path?
Would my eyes glow the same
              if I knew the rules to this purposeless game?
                               Would I not go-

                                                            ­Insane?

Why seek infinite time?
               One would be blind to not define
                                all time as infinite

               but is there not a limit?

To comprehend everything
               leads to understand nothing
but to accomplish just
                                some things
               ensures we are just like everything else.

                                 Ever so temporary,
                                           I sit and I breath
                                                     awaiting the moment
                                                          ­     I can no longer

and fall endlessly into the pocket of time
               where all is forgotten
                                 with no greater meaning.

We creatures of want
               are unsatisfied with anything less than
                                                            ­    everything;
To each man
               the sun shines on his sunny day;
               the bugs bite his skin sharply;
               the egg yolk,
                                 from rebellious outbursts of teenage angst,
                                 must be scraped off his car;
               those who reside in his home
                                 his neighborhood
                                         his town
                                                 his country
                                                         his world
                                  are somehow given a relation to him
                                                             ­     by him.

How does one man come to posses so much?
               Why must everything be in relation to him,
                                  can nothing exist without him?

Without I, all can exist
               just as functional as before.
Without you, I can exist
               just as happily as I have grown used to.

Our love, a passion I've felt for nobody else,
               the one who unlocked who I truly am,
               introduced me to my real self,
Is just as disposable as
               the plastic fork and unfinished meal
               that rot in my weekly Wednesday waste.

My mother and father
               sisters and brothers
                                family and friends
have formed the only life I know
but without them,
               I would exist just the same.

Think not this is an excuse for self-indulgence
               and rejection of close connections,

Embrace all who reach for your heart
               and show each tourist of your mind
                                a part of which none else have seen.

Roam this world, look not at it as yours
               but be the world,
                                assimilate with existence,
                                commemorate self
                                             as you would commemorate all else

and let ego, if it is there, harm not mind.