June's Song

How low?
To stoop, to bend, to fit into a
Mounded mold, to play a silly game,
To rend a beating hart in shards, to
Feast upon the venison and
Start to learn to
Live again?

How long?
To sit and wait and reinvent
A myriad reasons why a mountain
Went another year before deciding
Calm to blow, just smoke and
Twist a cap of
Cloud again?

How far?
To run in fear or run decided
Mile 13 hit stride, and sprint for
Finish line as I did. Fast delay the
Pain with medication, Bask
In massages and go to
Sleep again?

I know
I've been a sinner's side as you
She screamed, she wept, I flaunted
You, you kept her, held her, told her
I was just a flaw, imagined, rare
Embarrassing to note
And lied again.

Landing Dock

Cloud crosses, heavy,
Blackened underneath:
Too-long seared meat,
Mid trails of steaming sky
A ricochet of light cracks,
Bleeding out the bath,
And I've fallen to my side
At strike on Thor's behalf.
Watching man's face drawn,
Eyes wide - he gapes,
Ghost seen, perhaps?
Or just a tragically mishapped,
Un-finished bolt of
Would have,
Could have,
Should have been.
That missed its beating mark,
And left a flesh-shell whole,
Though smitten to the ground,
And rolled past.

Dawn Breaks in Moscow

And if I dream,
A life in other lives than this,
A glaring wit, a rage, a passing
Whistling by in leaves of ash and rot,
Or if I walk alone, or try, or cry,
or anything beyond the words
I dare to say in this, my time is
Otherwise well spent unless,
Like mist's cold fingers, Sandman's fry
Creep out of dreams into my life.
I shake my head, I doubt, I groan,
Resolve in betterment of duty go.
But dear, I've never til this moment known
The joyful peace of being home.

Awaken

Rusted rock, frames

School of thought and,

One who mocked once

Standing shocked as plunging down

To gore and grim, I'd fallen, 

Down to demon, Down and in. 

And on him, on those hands of harm lay

Spatters of regret and shame, and

To this day he stands a 

Little not the same.

But peering over settled dust,

I saw. I once had fallen

Up! He spoke. he held those

Spattered palms up, held them

Out as if they'd sun-bake dry

And stop, and stop me as I met my rusted

Rock and earth in downward flight, 

But time bore well her crown

And did not bow. I walked with her then.

Walked and saw where I had fallen

Long before.

Gateway

Scant few rebels met
A night of plunderous plans
Laid, drunk, and lay aside,
Inside another rebel's cave.
Revolting sect of enemy: an angered
Long-lost friend; memory denied, or
Faded more in some than most.
Led more by lust of unmet war or
New-discovered thrill of
Dishing garnished secrets out,
Perhaps a fancy, heart throb scorned,
Than of injustice, real or heard.

But we shall conquer, claim these
Ragged few, in shallow company
This night. Reason neither mind.
We shall stand or lie entwined,
Preserve the children, hide from
Truth or hint of change, but
Fight? Ah no, we hide curtains behind,
And sip our Absinthe. By and by,
We'll whisper ideals in the night,
While plotting next a fresh conquest
Of plotting body next to mine.