You're too sweet,
Like too much pollen weighing down the honey bee
Or the confectionaries my body has excised like demons,
Too rich and I retch;
I feel taxed just looking at you.

And your eyes shine too prettily,
--Like volcanic glass--while the men at the bar
Brag about a shiner with a swagger;
They wear wife-beaters like proud children wear scars
And you know, your eyes are too much like mirrors.

You're much too proud,
It deafens me like water in the ears.
It crushes me like water in the lungs.
I'm swept up in your current like a too far gone metaphor
And I suppose the wind sounds too much like your scream.

And your thoughts move too quickly;
Your brain is a lovely little thing running out of sight
And Beelzebub knows; he winks at me,
Slips something in your drink and says he'll help,
Says you're too much too little.

You're much too tired,
Like the world is much too the same,
Or the sky is tired of birdsong,
And mirrors of reflecting you.
And I'm much too sick of looking at you.

You punish yourself, Baba,
Tasting the power of life in your veins,
Tasting it as it drips quietly away, but
There's no life for you in these chains.

Perfection is a smooth, round pebble,
A cutting orb trapped in your sandal,
But as the blood pours trailing on the ground,
Clothed in tears, I will light your votive candle.

Your skin sags its sorry sighs,
But in the lying mirror, a trick of the eye,
Sunken eyes and a skeleton
Are once, twice bitten, but never shy

Have you achieved Nirvana, Baba?
Now that your body has gone away?
Have you left behind earthly terrors,
And the fears and cries of today?

And from your withered lips
This answer will eternally resound,
That you've seen final salvation
And for a rotting tongue, been crowned.

I am the blustery winds of autumn,

I am the inevitable leaves that will fall,

I am the slow, crystalline freezing of the lake,

And I am the southbound geese as they call.

I am the sky's reddening, fresh flavor,

I am the trees endless corridor hall,

I am the song of crowd-muffled laughter,

And I am the grass where children will sprawl.

I am the bear as she eats her last fill,

I am the farmers last greatest haul,

I am the cold noses and sweatered long johns,

And I am October, October great and small.

I wear a mask
That isn't adorned by any jewels
I wear the simple white mask
That was made from my mother's skin
And it sits uncomfortable and stuck,
Covering the suffering of my father
Covering the suffering of my grandfather
Covering the suffering of my own secret self.
I wear a mask
By no one's choice but life
I wear the simple white mask
That sits stoic and still,
And I tried once to pry it off,
But it was nothing more than skin,
And under was nothing more than muscle
And under was nothing but blood and bone
I wear a mask
That will not hide my blemishes
I wear the simple white mask
That will not define me
And I remind myself of this
As someone asks me what I am
As someone asks me what my father was
As someone asks me what my grandfather was
And my mask stays its stoic grin
And my mask stays my tongue.

You watched summer fade
And her petals along with her;
You watched the world die
Without any resistance and wept.
You vowed to learn from it
You would not be a delicate flower
Or the gentle trill of birdsong
Wavering, fluttering at
Nothing more than a breeze
You hardened your heart
Until it became diamond,
Harsh and beautiful
But you forgot
You forgot though diamond is hard
It is also brittle
And one day your heart
Was not hard enough,
And it shattered
Spreading like eternal stardust
Until you were nothing
But a name to weep.

Here she lies, they'll say,
They'll say at my funeral,
Here at the corner of happy and hopeful
Here at the street between bitter and sweet

The sun will be harsh
And the rain will be soft,
And the winds will scream
Their blustering, bugling calls

Birds won't stop to say their goodbyes;
They have other places to be
And other winters to outrun
And they know they must move on.

And that day another hundred thousand
Will sigh and breathe their last breath,
Breathe their last breath and join me,
And together we'll watch the birds fly away.

"All is fair," In-anna,
Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Earth
A rose in her wisdom,
A rose in her hand,
Inanna Queen of Heaven and Earth

Roses or rosettes,
Thorn scars or eternal stars,
Stabbing beauties or
Bright white hot
But all is fair in wisdom,
All is fair in blood

And Inanna, Inanna Queen,
She gives me roses upon roses,
Thorns amongst thorns,
Inanna, Inanna, my Queen

Inanna loft me high,
And cast me low,
Bruised and ******, love,
Bruised and ****** for love

"All is fair" In-anna,
Her echoing voice, just shadows,
Sweet shadows, wrathful shadows,
All is fair, Inanna, my Queen,
Queen of my heaven and my earth,
Queen who, in her wisdom,
In her wisdom holds flowering thorns.