ome orth azarus, come th laz, ome for zus
echo in the winds outside the empty cave;

In the desert an insurrection
to deluge the earth from cauldrons of faith;
Tinderbox by the Dneiper, an interview stolen;

Dance of Ishtar caged, the demiurge call.

Treading on ice, our mortal lives;

Ancient wells wailing with the earth;

A vessel weathering the storm, sinking
now at Galilee.

At Golgotha, by the empty Crucifix;
it all began here in Bethlehem where we wait.

Surrealist Cut-up

pouring in together in the cold,              huddled
in              the harvest Grain-stacks, on the farm
from the palms.          gathered
heavens for Thanking gradient mist
    clenched  the earth in        evening skies;

Figurative-Literal**

Grain-stacks, huddled together in cold,
gathered on the farm
in gradient mist pouring in
from the evening skies;
Thanking heavens for the harvest
the earth in clenched palms.

I come floating to you Mother, dead on the river, body bullet ridden: this is how God reaps His harvest of faith.

See, those columns that support the sky now, carried once the roof of our temple. The fire burning the pyres now carried oblations to our ideals; But we face a jealous God consuming in wrath.

Here I come, un-wreathed, unsung, wet in the tears of the skies, skin carrying scars of resistance, eyes open to the tyranny of faith.

Clutch my hands, let me feel the love that birthed me, one last time before my Spirit moves onward and beyond to the worlds of light.

Surrealist Cut-up

      lotus pond lonely on the bridge
verdant in spring    still in the    garden

Literal Figurative**

Lonely bridge on the lotus pond
in the still garden verdant in spring

Surrealist Cut-up

vanishing illuminated darkness
enveloping    into figure              
Faintly       

Figurative-literal**

Fain­tly illuminated figure
vanishing into
enveloping darkness

Surrealist Cut-up

    boatman       Purple haze
contemplative pouring
the sky as lone
              rides the horizon.
       islanding
into the lake,

Cubist

Arc to the horizon
apparition, brooding figure,
a form rides in twilight haze
junction of the worlds
into a slither of light.

Literal**

Purple haze islanding the sky
pouring into the lake,
as lone boatman
rides contemplative
into the horizon.

I want to feel the breeze on my unveiled face
and my unlocked hair, this morning,
I am walking barefoot.
I want to feel the earth on my feet.
How she has gone warm
under the anger of the days.
Or how she shivers in the days
of agony, the cold winters.
Before the night was done,
I plucked and hid some in my pocket.
There it stays, the darkness,
close to my heart. Sometimes
the stars smile, pomegranate cloves,
bleeding sliced under my knife.
There is a wave receding,
stealing the earth under my feet away.
A projectile flew with the birds,
racing them a while, but it drops now
into the water in a thud.