The bitter sting of winter's singing howl
Drives me to seek some deep and darkling place
Far from the blizzard's scorn, the wind's embrace,
Far from the beasts who bear its brunt to prowl
In search of prey. I'll clutch close to my cowl
And cloak, beneath which hides a younger face
Than most foresee. The forecast yields no trace
Of hope for safety 'pon the road. No foul,
My fellow traveler, don't fear from me.
I'll lay my knife down well before we meet,
Before we each choke down a share of ***
Or what would pass to warm camaraderie;
I know not where I've passed, to where I've come;
I simply beg a place to warm my feet.

Another dram of "philosophic wine."
For all the tumbler saps my fingers' heat,
Its glass holds little, now. Let me entreat:
I'll recollect the tremble down my spine
And spin my little web with every line
To catch your gaze, to bid you take a seat,
To bide my time until the next we meet,
When next we close, we kiss, we intertwine -
I fear it so. I fear I'll be transfixed,
All stunned and muted, stricken by your touch,
Or worse, the web won't draw a moment's gaze.
It must be offered, though it isn't much -
All love and lusts, desires intermixed -
On this, of all the ****** romantic days.

Clicking fingers typing away feelings
Sad-mad clad with smiles publicly exposed
"Imma look happy" your pic says in post,
Yet in another, as though leaves falling.
Feed filled with furious, angry words that mock.
Subtly seeking gentle tap on the back
Or bent down of head for a slight mild whack
Fast-paced tapping, eyes on screen round the clock.
Go away then from that white bird and "f."
Strike a match. Turn to ashes that pink cam.
Unglance from the ghost feat dog-faced pictures.
Enjoy, run around, show off that quiff.
Strive, be on top of things, as though a ram.
The world ain't just ones and zeros but pastures.

This serves as a nothing but I tell you,
Never in the existence of a life,
You'll see that words are not a useless lie,
It takes a lot of time to make this new,
But I guess you will watch these lovely hues,
For her future to be, as of for use,
No one will never discover her kind,
I am pretty sure that she stands a right,
I wish I could turn back from the time,
Where there's a madness within all the fears,
I should let this all come to rest and ripe,
Is the fruit when my heart is pure, my dears,
You told me one time, "Please just hold on tight,"
Please just let my voice be your guide, and hear.

In summer gath’ring they invoked the sky
Just throw of stones from where I sit, so bold
On pain of death, they risked both names and gold,
By pen for chance of freedom staked their lives;
Once bought with blood they’d plant some autumns nigh
A tree whose branches ever since could hold
Against the force of storms, growing so old
Though none can say now if its roots have died;
As children huddled ‘neath its shade cry out
Some grasp an ax, ready to strike, upend
Afraid these leaves once-green no longer breathe
While up on eager feet they march and shout
Unsure what perils may on them descend
Many yet hope to climb and still believe

We pilfer light here in these cold far rooms
Fast stolen to our beds and darkened fears
Unbowed and casting evil eyes and stares
On any soul who dares to dream of home;
Alight in shadows, tricksters view false thrones
While basking in the glow of claps and sneers
Amid the stench of truth long dead from spears
Like lies inflicted ******* hearts and bones;
Still, somewhere reason now ignites the mind,
It calms the righteous anger of our tears
To carry feet on paths that passions hide;
So long as we defend the joy of days
Hope cannot wane nor freedom ever fade.

Forgive the sins of those we would condemn?
Apologise and send them on their way
And in the aftermath of our dismay
Seek not for retribution on these men?

Cast down our stones, cast off our thoughts of when
They stained the walls in vengeance on a day
Now fast enshrined in minds of those who pray,
Pretend the world is just as it was then

Before these wretched shadows had the ken
To shatter glass and unmold living clay,
Think not of how their evil to repay
But offer them a prayer and say "Amen"?

Dear lord, our strength of will is plainly weak
For we can't simply turn the other cheek.

Oh father dear, petrarchan patriarch,
Thy gifted words of thy divinity
Portray the depth of thine own trinity,
And blessed are we who know thy craftsman's mark

And Blessed Are Thee, Thy Daughter Marian,
Who Walks In Beauty Like The Bright Sunlight
Where Flowers Grow And Faeries Do Delight
To Dance In Summer Glade and Autumn Glen

And Hilda, blessed are thee and all that's thine,
The gloom of shadowed valley thou has known
Yet love and life shall ever be thine own,
Oh blessed are thee and all thou holds divine

For thee, thy Hilda and thy Marian,
My blessings always and anon,

                         Amen.

We are to come and leave and not return,
But hand our secret scroll to those who'd be.
I'll pass the writings on which passed to me,
And shrink to blackened ash with flameless burn.

As far as those who'll be--of whom will earn,
That secret scroll containing some of me,
Quite like yet quite unlike, in no way me--
They'll mourn for I'll have gone and won't return.

To live on in a heart or memory,
Is not living or life or anything,
But trite consoling words of sympathy--

A metaphor or best a simile--
suspending truth, and grief that loss will bring.
In truth no more am I nor shall I be.


(C)2015, Christos Rigakos

There's an age old undying question that
Bides my blood stained wrists nailed here on thine earth,
That keeps my toes digging into the soft
Soil; into which we bury our dead, yet
Stand upon by which we mock the living,
And so that question stands as a viewer

Would you jump off a bridge if all your friends
Were doing it? As all our mothers asked,
Though what stuck about you, if I were to
Jump, what stops you from jumping after me?