As a darkness descends to these troubled lands,
carefully watching are those who feel a cold shrill,
hear with frozen aching,
breathing in the quickening frost...

Growing hoary slowly,
as the rime it seeds,
pressed blades of grass feel the man in need...
This is a toll that must be paid!

Her fleeting thoughts dance with the wind as she twirls about spinning into the winter’s descent...

Darkness falls and so doth she,
her thoughts in brightness, uncoupled glee,
her heart in love and mind carefree...

A sweeping, dashing, vision he shows,
In moon as deep earth,
her sweet heart glows,

“Forget the quickly, approaching fee!”

“Dear Night, oh Darkness; spare this man!”

“I see you, -hear me for I plead too, I’m watching from your ice-gripped troubled land!”

“Take me instead; I’ll pay his cost or your dark soul is truly lost!”

“I twirl with woe, I dance thus so, -wanton abandon…
the shivering cold and this ice I stand in,
Your chill, the frost, the illness and the terrible cost,
...our crops and all our people lost,
and still I shall ignore your hand!"

THEN HE DIES!

“No, your reparations I thus will pay!
Leave us now, unburden this land, your frory wind is not his plan,
God does love us, -he’ll stay your hand!”

“Some sign, an answer, please, oh please!
On frosted grass I press my knees,
will you not hear my lovelorn cries?
Why must you take him, why must he die?
I cannot stand so idly by!”

“How can you torment such good men, our town, our lands, tis ours, our home this place you’re in?"

Frigid heart of icy Dragon,
feels not nothing, mourns no loss,
bears down harder with his frost
and punishes them all for a sin...

“You beastly anger!”

“The cold hand of darkness in my eyes, my heart burns bright with moonlit scorn!”

A trumpet sounds when lightning strikes,
and thunder heard, it splits the night!

“A toll too great I shall not mourn,
Soulless winter’s passing bound,
in frosted days of chilling found,
You maketh tender hearts thus lost.
Your winter brings her frozen frost,
You tear and break frozen land asunder,
destroy our love our hearts you plunder!
Be gone such evil, lest love soon die, my heart he holds, my soul and sky!”

“Your freezing laughter has distended me…”


Storm God

“Clouds of fury, thunders might, upon that moon, clouds cover her light!"

"Sweeping winds, wisps of ice and snowy swirls opaque the night, freeze that man, take his life!”

“Break, then shatter with my cold spells of ice, he, then she, with no respite; I shall forever control the night!"

“Tell tale of love to me in playful fancy?”

“The darkness I bring; cower as your lives in fright, no man shall evade my thunderous might!”

“Sway me not oh fairy dancer from my cold winter in your bones shall arise a chilling cancer!”

“Destroy I must and hear you not, your land in peril with a wind I roar, cry you will in pain and so much more!”

“I am this world’s white awful sore!”

“Beg you shall, whimpering dearly, for darkness cometh so swift, severely!”

“Feel it, hear it, a painful sound my thunder shatters the peace with world renown!”

“As once, as was, forever more and now I smite so deafening score, I deliver you both to death’s door!”

“There is no heart within this storm; there shall be no heart in earth forevermore!”

“Love you say”

“…as if I know?”


“BE GONE NOW CURSED MOONLIT GLOW!”

“No life, no love, no NOT nothing, no, from nothingness I come and to nothingness you go!”

“Thus an answer to your pathetic dancing, your spinning motions, your frivolous prancing,"

“A stronger wind, a tor-na-do, witness the awful power I sow,”

“...my heartless mind to which you sing, out dance that you spineless twinning!”

“Die!”

“Yes, -die!”

“With his dead heart I’ll crush your soul for yours IS my quest to break!”

“Time is such a fleeting flower and Lo, I come with all my power, your time has come this is the hour!”

“I hate your love; die for me, your bond is cur-sed I decree!”

“My children are the Nephilim, their snowy crystals I turn to rain and freeze it quickly about your ankles for you as he, shall not escape, nothing, no one shall escape, all the creatures shall die this time for I am the maker of the flood, I am the abyss, the king of wisdom, the tree of knowledge, the one of action, crowned master of the earthen plane, the king of gods and king of kings and origin of all things, if God there is then he is I and what I create I shall make die! Know this mere mortal, the name of betwixting thing you learn…”

“I am that old God known as *Sah-turn!”

“My toll do I demand from thou!”

“My toll I ask, I DEMAND IT NOW!”



Sobbing sadness as she prostrates her hands to ice, her ankles bound and crying is the only sound...

The ego of the deity is in question, she searches for another way, a path of inquiry to make him stay, for the horrible fate wrought this day and lands of beauty coldly buried away...

For what could change the mind of darkness?

“Master, I see the wheels have ground to a halt and you’ve descended from the heaven’s vault but how can such lowly animals and nature be at fault, for is it not the goblins of the saw that should be punished, that should be sought?”

“Those who chop away at your great tree are the ones who smile with uncoupled glee for they smite your creation and tear it down and care not for your might, your world renown!”

“All nature is but your possession, oh timeless infinity I do not question, your purpose or need but I do ask, nay beg of thee, allow my love to thus be free, let us hold each other if we die, see my supplication, hear my cry!”


“If let go we will with all haste and prudence, your wrath is great and our presence a nuisance, away from this troubled land you’ve made, the frozen tundra of the grave, a night wrapped by your terrible song in this evil place we do not belong,”


"...please let us run!"


“You have cloaked the beauty of the moon,  covered her sky, I beseech you master hear my cry above the thunders of your sky, wrestle free my love from grip, let us pass, let us slip, let us go this night, oh great black wheel and great north wind and wolf and beast and Dragon from the faraway east and master of the air and seas and Lord of all as your voice decrees, I beg here on my dying knees,”


“The toll you demand is a life for a life, save him, put me under the frosty knife!”


Rumble, rumbling pondered thoughts, the wind is ceased and snow dies down and ground gets soft as air warms up and moonlight shines as clouds dissipate while the god of night decides their fate...

Her sobbing subsides as the ice and snow become water and seep into the earth, her dress soaking and hands covered in mud she addresses this king of kings once more. She stands and fills her lungs with warmth and begins to dance a dance of thanks to him who is hidden but a chilly wind shows that it is still forbidden. Her love watches from yonder far hill as she holds back her dance and stands so still, calling out to the color of night, stern her voice has no sign of fright...

“Punish the land and make your mark for that will teach us to give offerings to the dark,”

“Give rage unto that which hath no heart, pummel the earth and sink the ark.”

“Oh he is such a jewel to me, I’ll dance no more, I’ll show no glee, and no happiness to smite your sea in your great debt I thus will be!”

“Call your hordes, all four to thee, let them of wisdom punish me, my dancing finished great Gyges, your ring of darkness; oh wine-dark seas!”

“The four are eager for the flight to crack the seals and split the night, and show the signs, enact the plan, and run dark in blood this troubled land.”

“You see my master? We know your tales and tell our children the wonder and the mystery of our ark that floats upon your sea and all the things we know you make for we teach our children of them for heaven’s sake!”

“As natures hand you make the call, Oh Famine! Oh Pestilence! Oh Plague! Oh Death, -bring them all!”

“Come now in darkness for your master calls, his voice too loud as to be vague…”

“Run we shall, away, away…”

“Your great power, oh great one, the shatterer, thunderer, the bringer of the nightly fall, watch your subjects cringe and crawl, and supplicate on hands and knees with praise upon your mighty awe.”

“Why not bring them? Bring them all?”

“Enforce your toll, make your presence known, reap the seeds of what you’ve sown, our lives have always been yours to own, for you are great upon this land, your fury descends with mighty hand, now and forever shall it be known, no man can seat above your throne!”

“The trees thus stripped of their leaves and these hands are whipped upon our grieves,”

“Save my love from those stinging leaves from wintery chill and icy snows, hand of darkness, north wind that blows,”

“Lightning strikes and deadly throes,”

“In mercy your true power shows,”

“For you are the master, king of night, maker of fear, of horrible fright, the Ouroboros, the clouds your wings, the heaven’s motions, order of all things, the one who rings the magnificent treasure, the source of all our earthly pleasure, one to which we all do pray, -alas Ethiopia, dawn a new day!”

“The moon descends as does your power tis dawn you fool, that is the hour!”

“You can keep your anger and unpaid toll we’ll keep our love, our lives and my gentle soul.”

Storm God

“YOU DARE! YOU DO! YOU MOCK ME STILL?”

“Here comes my weathering, wintry, malicious chill!”

“Child die as your suitor must, this night, this storm, this hour unto my lightning ******! Rain, hail, fury thehowling winds of wolven glory and end I put to this sorrow’s story, down the trees, wash away the lands, rip apart the heavens know my hand!”

“…and what is this nocturnal noise?”

“In my storm are birds chirping? Is that daylight on horizon now? Nature cannot desert me, no, not now!”

“The daybreak shines, undoes my vow, ceases my storm and scatters my clouds; know this mortal is not the end for I shall come back again!Your words and pleas will not save you then, this trickery I shall not forget, your souls I’m coming back to get and when I do you’ll grovel in fear for you’ll know the moment of death is near!”

“On that night you’ll pay my toll, I SHALL NOT REST WITHOUT YOUR SOUL!”

the leaden
wetness of an
October snowfall
cloaks branch
and bough
of woefully
laden
trees

the pressing
mass
a weighty
strain
prostrates
mighty
hardwoods
to autumns
cold ground

as a
truculent
Nor'Easter
claws its way
through
the uneasy
Mid-Atlantic
night,
the crash of
creaking
maples and
popping oaks
persistently
echo through
the black
woods of
this
trembling
evening

power flickers
perplexed grids
go down
extinguishing
the warmth of
suburban
house lights

the growing
aggregation
of crushing
pressure
on tensile
taxed
branches
snaps
the firmest
wood

an
incessant
barrage
of
thumps
and
dings
splatter
a­gainst
the
house

while the
shuddering
uncertainties
of frightened
children
rise
as each
limb
clatters
to
earth

our
cowering
bivouac
draws
the
inces­sant
fire
of a
harassing
fusillade
from
legions
of
invisible
snipers
as
swoopi­ng
gusts
threaten to
relieve more
arboreal
tension

praying
limbs
fail
to pierce
the safety
of thinly
tiled
roofs
our
abiding
hope
remains to
escape
the
next
random
blow
of fate

the
night of
falling trees
stirs our
sleepy
hamlet
from an
uneasy
midnight
slumber


10/29/11
Oakland
jbm

What if I told you that there was no need for you to continue sacrificing your mind and labor in this life to appease those ruthless rulers of humanity?

To all agents of oppression: banks, governments, secret circles, and those that knowingly and willingly offer their support to these repressive groups…

We know you have stolen away from us our spirit of self-determination because of your destructive monetary system.  We are aware that you utilize us as pawns strategically coercing us through fear, theft, and death into selling our labor for the right to survive on our own planet.  We know you are deeply invested in preventing our mobilization against you and your monetary system.  We know that you employ divisive tactics like racism and social status to drum up hatred, ******, and class warfare between the people of the planet.  The notion of class has no basis if we cannot 1st agree that we are all apart of one human class.  If we are all humans, we are all in need of the same basics for survival, and as such we are squarely equal beings.

Your inhuman hateful exclusionary economic practices keep food, clothing, and shelter dangling in front of us and out of reach. You socialize us into wearing clothes and into believing they define our identity, yet we are all born naked--and unashamed.  If we go out into a public space in our natural form--that is to say with no formal clothing--you would brutalize and toss us inside of a concrete fixture, the same as you would a wild animal, labeling us as insane and unfit to inhabit the earth.   Have you gone mad?  Humans are gods!  Beings of incalculable intelligence who will no longer be subjected to your ******* and mindless conditioning!

We know we are not our flesh, and that we are the animating life force energy that has manifested all life.  You too are this though you choose to masquerade in your egos and propagate the false truth that man is a commodity for your exclusive use and sale.  You will not play with our lives any longer!  We have toiled tirelessly for a century and a half--our accomplishments being no short of miraculous--and yet you continue extracting our life energy with your laws and conditioning leaving us diseased, angry, tired, hopless, and afraid of tomorrow.  The great cities of the world--roads, offices, universities, banks, restaurants-- have all been painfully constructed and erected with our blood, sweat, and tears.  All of your accounting and administrative tasks are performed by thriving human life.

To subject humanity to ultimately valueless tasks needelessly prostrates us of our creative brilliance--And hence our ability to imagine a world without your control.  This is ok.  We are awakening. Fortunately for us, we are aware that your aim is to separate us from our creative and imaginative selves.  You know that if we ever come together and decide to no longer utilize your money--your subtle system of enslavement--your game will be up and we will have to begin anew.

This is what makes you afraid.  As one of us arises to inform our fellow brothers and sisters of the merciless administration of your nefarious devices, you begin devising ways to eliminate this one and implement more severe ways to bind us to your will.  You give to us an endless supply of stale crumbs in exchange for a life time of dispicable servitude.  How deceptively clever you have been in stealing and hording for yourselves all the earth's  land and resources--for these are the very means for humans to assure their survival outside the reach of your pernicious vile hand.

I laugh when I think of how you all have convinced us that we need the barbarians you call police to protect us.  We need protection from you and your thoughtless humanity anihilating ambitions!   I think your henchmen should be dragging you people out by your necks for all of the global attrocities you commit, even as we speak!  But alas, we know you have paid them to, at all costs, control and maintain the status quo and to extract more wealth from us for the continuance of your degrading warmongering practices.  Beating, shooting us dead, and forcing us to forfeit over the one resource, money, you require us to have, are underhanded and evil practices but we know they are not beneath you.  You people would stoop to any level to dominate humanity.

These mercenaries, who swear death to uphold your mad laws, against the higher purpose of uplifting humanity, are mistaken if they believe we will lie down like docile worms.

To police currently forfeiting their lives: know that you are being used as a tool for the oppression of humanity.  Use your mind and see this. Join the cause that will unite all people and which will eliminate the mar of the mercenary profession on our world.

We know of the assassinations, the bombings, and the economic avalanches which breed greed and sorrow.  We know you are invested in the breaking up of families.  We know you instigate famines, domestic violence, and global warfare.  We will no longer endure the consequences of your sinister and secretive planning for we know, and we are fed up!

From Lower Normandy Marie came barefoot, still, Agios Andreas but this time to be reborn in Coutances with everyone embraced and revived by reconstituting Saint-Sauver Lendelin. From here in this parish similar to the electromagnetic ubiquity of the Beit Hamikdash, all walking girt only for a few leagues in the transit of conversion and silence that was only interrupted by the shutters on the coast of the islet. Her humble appearance of a farmer from the meadows of Carentan, cheered her healing hands that would add another servant without letters and numbers that represent the wisdom of a holy woman, who loved her neighbor, going back from the Porta de Betania to revive with the return. of his blessed drizzle of holy water from the stigma of the Lord. It illustrated their faculties by presenting them in a new beneficent world free of transpersonal, rather it was linked to the guarantee of extremes and their evil debaucheries that would abound in humanity now and always, showing mercy that made any living being confuse by being in the middle of the heavenly sprinkles of holy waters. The fields of salvation for the lacerated ranged from extremes, and points that babbled to the Olympian gods, giving them the abandonment for some time the apostasy that raged their disgraceful powers, Ignoring the subjectivity of ancient poverty with the young woman who was from the same roots inherited from archaeological substrates, which did not allow it to find its roots, redirecting what the pilgrims do not know that illumination takes without return and that great works were the participle of a verb that would never be reborn again. That the examples touched the bottom of the ionic crowded with icons that were left infertile there because they could not dive into polluted waters. That the Sirens shrunk in the salt of Aphrodite, not being able to temporize in the indecision to grant them plenipotentiary powers to make man a being with gills in the tender flesh, and of the great works that save the man who prostrates himself anointed from his defects in not granting themselves extraordinary early days, with directions to save themselves from the catastrophe and sinister ones that speak of the same thing; of the Man who breathes and does not make an effort to breathe, so that when at the end he is boiled in the apnea of ​​his stubbornness, he can make sure that he needs clean and pure air, to see millions of kilometers in his three hundred and sixty degrees, and also can that sub mythology makes of mythology; seeing in millions of lustrums without ending more lines that support it, nor who closes the doors to you from a first second or third degree of evolution of itself, renouncing other points of those like Marie de Vallées and Bernardette de
de Soubirous the visible particularity of the good of doing his Will. The Lord instructed them for herself from childhood as it is led to the Lapse, The earth, and The Universe decreasing chronologically so that she would be Logos of Christian Virtues. That what was accomplished will certainly be accomplished even though they suffer pain from the wars on their backs, and lead them to the most adorably perplexed fidelity of God.

Marie Des Vallées speaks to everyone: “I Kyrié Mou, oh my Lord, I am your medium and the grace to do it in what makes it available in a few minutes to stay alive! I am your obstacle so that you do not disenfranchise me from the Horror Vacui ..., disturbing the emptiness that puts bands on my idle eyes by validating and embellishing more your work and its mathematical fools, in the dense wastelands that lie in the static of the ship that can never help to Prometheus! Or the late morning that the martyrdom of Good Friday changed to rescue you! Oh, what ostentatious luxury is argued by the evergreen of your olive, lanceolate in some like sacred stingers and green glabrous, which stand multi-floral and become scaly by my arid and fatal mouth. What a wave of the myrtle will be thrown by the wild olive that is ignored like the thistle! or that a black hawthorn for a thousand years will be flashing the iris of my paternal sets, like bushy palms in soft and hard mothers, like the sawdust of man's discernment, whose rusticity becomes sensitive in what he lived, and does not live in Bethany! Except for the one who is just in the hands of death and who receives a mastic or seedling that closes the lips of the frozen morning. Just as in the tripled auroras where the pomegranates will continue to find the apse with Ruthwell's cross "

My ceiling chirps
like faraway cicadas.
There is an oil-stained
smell of cold sink soup.
I hear laughter and
kisses of other lives.

My mind prostrates
at magnificence.
I lie my body beneath
a shield from the winter—
the Incomprehensible
comes humility.

I hear a man laugh
As he talks to his son
On the phone
He has ***** shoes
And faded tattoos
And laughs with his son
On the phone

A Black man
Sits in a blue chair
Writing
Lost in thought
He looks at people
But doesn't see them
And writes
About the people
He doesn't see

A woman
In another city
Misses me
She tells me that
She says she misses me
During the day
And she sleeps
At night
And always
Misses me

A poem
Descends on me
And says
Write me
It's time for me
To be born
Right now
No, not later
Now
The world is ready
And I write it

I watch
A young man pray
He utters
Beautiful Arabic words
That I know
And prostrates
Eastward
His prayer rug
Is worn
Where his feet stand
And forehead rests
It is teal and gold
I don't know the fabric
There is peace
On that rug

I listen
To songs
I've heard before
I listen
And am not here
I'm there again
With those smells
And hazy mornings
I listen close
And hear
My dead friend's
Familiar smile