Remember when we

Remember
when we
were refugees,
martyrs in transition
incessantly stranger.
 –
Walking.
Road hypnosis.
Step forward
through unhinged, barbaric world.
Civil norms in quick revision.
 –
Home, family, streets of trade,
perks of urbanity
cultured humanity
strong lanes of history,
tightly wrapped in our world viewed
as small daily rituals.
Me within we, clear as air.
 –
How recognize an I,
broken from web of familiar
connection.  Now obliterated, markers
of place, of purpose; constrained movement
of uncertain destination.
I walk enclosed in walkers’ formation,
consciousness optional,
entrained within we devoid of sentient time.
 –
Brief touch, short awareness of a face,
faces, eyes almost blind, shrouded by terror,
destitution.
Why be human, cling to burdens of the flesh,
of aspiring?
Herd cattle, we pretend have no pain,
no mindful fear, no sense of personal
reality.
We walk because we have no landing.
Long past exhaustion, grabbing at pity of
strangers to attend our exhibition, to watch
over, protect, accept, that we fall on their streets
desperate for sleep.
Who are we, bleeding identity, to plead
salvation?
When we must stop, drop to the ground,
do they walk over us, or around, or humanely
offer shelter, bedding?
Choice not ours to demand.
Demand if you’ve nothing else to give voice.
How will such rudeness affect the treatment,
respect encountered?
Ever onward, diminished, with no where
to root, become.
 –
Battered, disgraced, wasted;
stripped of livelihood, consequence,
continuity of plan or regimen.
Tattered skin, fragile bones;
reviled by foreign merchants
expecting quid pro quo
wherever we’re pressed to go.
 –
Redefine home as space to sleep, keep
what we own (until stolen). 
Without resource of comfort, nothing
worth waking, yet another dire day descends.
 –
Small girlchild, rags and dust – follow
her morning of traverse, this tiny world allowed.
Each tent flap reveals fester of wounds deep
and shallow, ravage disease.
Senses, thought, subsumed to beat of breath
outside rational context.
Stuck in the dirt, her worth a hole where
she bottoms out, tributary blood expelled.
 –
We’ve known security of work and love
once called normality.
Forward reality denies those lives.
Who am I (are you) without my neighborhood of
affirmation, without mundane commiserations
and routines?
Turned from tribal identity to nonentity,
just another broken body in the fray.
I respond to each absurdity,
each broken line as I become less
and more.
– 
Bonding anew, as we humans do,
each here/now imbues with further
circumstance.  Eternal dance with fates
suspected and unknown.  If we could
only stay unbound, masked for day’s
occasion, but behind gathering truths
as moments of clarity. 
Whom are we assuming ourselves to
include?
 –
Summons
to public ambient acclaim:
Lives matter, private pain
sad desperation that never
lessens though it ebb, sway, regain
purchase.
Real lives yearn, feel need
for some promised warmth of care.
Shared extremities that nurture hope
of shared deliverance, hands and minds
together strong.
Surge of survival over uncertain destiny,
return to industry, if we might find that energy.
Realign expectant gaze toward peace, plenty
— planetary necessity.
Eventually to remember as poignant history,
ritual song, reverie
as respite to somber tidal drum,
when we were refugees.
 –

Death’s Martyr

 
 
So merry to cackle and crush with grand
superiority
Why squander such glee in pursuit of peace?
 
You proudly claim your aim, to take an honor guard
of civilian lives while martyring your own for
faithful service reward in Paradise.
You say oh the ecstasy as I have never felt before
that time I almost made it happen – as no non-worshipper
could know.
Hey, idiot, that’s not religious zeal nor taste of God’s
gratitude for your sacrifice.  That was just a good
old-fashioned adrenaline high – the kind any body can
find playing with a chance of death.
God has forbidden murder of civilians and yourself.
You thought you get a free pass on His law because
you called yourself a martyr?  Because you slaughtered
for a holy cause?
No.  That lie you allowed yourself to believe, spat
by evil, power-mad men; what you want to be Truth
to excuse your own desired end
out of a world where you feel no respect – but ask,
why should such an eagerly deceived
coward be respected by man or God?
Who are you really martyring to?  Death – not a Deity,
just another go-between, soul pimp.
Martyrdom to some mere minion comes with no
righteous reward, but rather the wrath
of your infinitely jealous God.
Acquiesce to evil bidding; you get not what you expect.
Paradise is closed to murderers and suicides.  Such
deserve for penance after life 
eternity in Hell.
But God is merciful – repent before vicious acts defile
your destiny. Defy deception, make amends, endure suffering
of guilt, of conscience. 
Only then, with much love and prayer
might you learn to turn soured hate to self-acceptance, to love
as God commands, all of His Creation, including you.
Thus you become loving servant to your God,
divinely forgiven, free to ascend with honor to Heaven,
all privileges restored because you did this awesome work,
martyring your hate to peace, salvation.
.
.
.

Void Light’s Tale

synchronicity of thoughtstreams, shadow and colors merge, emerge,
float as one beneath
realigning Sun 
Old enemy a friend in waiting – whispers peace within, if I will but listen.
Still running, silent screams, beating my breast from inside,
re-breaking, re-breaking a heart so shattered,
not to reset but to bleed into riotous sea
and then, she croons: “yes, reset, remember
with new respect for who you have always been but feared to believe.”
This ally silently screaming within my deepest heart, my darkest dreams
“Listen, love, revere this wild child who laughs at whirlwinds and dances
to changing, challenging melodies.
Sing along free from inhibition or self-mockery.
This is our time, yours and mine, to be wonderfilled.”
.
.
.

 

Glory

You want to blaze angry
I get it
Rage feels so much more potent
than misery
Feed that flame with every creature
that blame gets scaped on, make they’re
sacrifice part of your armor,
your Honor but a pallid façade
Burn through your better dreams,
childish schemes seem so endearing
if they include horrid screams, blood and pain
if they will rain incendiary death
as you explode your final fiery breath
*
*

Play Date

She was a spritely faun,
a bright red balloon,
pink and peppermint ribbons
tailed like a kite.
She flew into whatever held the room —
a rage,
a whirlwind,
astute blue skies.
I met her that night of mandolins,
a mannequin,
a ruined man.
She gave me blazing sights,
intrepid laughs,
tinkling tingling tarot touch.
We flew on clouds of ambergris
raining absinthe
absorbed in love.
I’ve not these thousands days
seen her again,
but now and then
encrypted in a crowded face.
She ran into some random world,
a rapid roil,
a separate place.
I fell into a sickly bed,
a crippling crowd,
a narrow lane edging,
draining into receding streets.
*
*

Gemini Eyes – Phase I

You hurtled me into a faithless dream
All my demons I’d thought I’d quietened
Sent my thoughts down a lustful stream of music, rhythm
Gemini eyes speak of treacherous love
and I’ll never win
Gemini eyes lie, promise devotion,
and I’m caught again
How can I hold you?
The time was weak, my body hurting
It’s a time I’m sure the years will soften
You offered all I wanted to need and I wanted
Your Gemini eyes to talk to me of love,
and I’ll never win
Gemini eyes, please answer mine with love
Oh, I’m caught again
and I just want to hold you
and let the passion melt my tears
Tear the demons of all my fears
Tear me to destruction, Gemini eyes,
cause I’ll never win
Your Gemini eyes got me caught again.
Please let me hold you.
.
.

unstaged

Okay is not the proper measure.
When one loves, loses, decays, under consecrated ground
When Winter, her dark endeavor to shroud in peace, absconds,
abdicates to bouncing Spring and heart songs sing not bothering
with permission
or deliverance
Forget, sweet memories let dance far yonder  for a nonce
of unfettered pleasure to bring (not solace) ecstasy
too intense to distinguish from rapture of pain
..

sad life

How did life become so sad?
You with such energy, such talent
should be on the world stage
lit in huge letters on
sparkling marquees.
Princes should be vying for
your hand at the ball.
Rubies and sapphires
ought to adorn you.
Your slightest desires
attended as undying devotionals
of starstruck acolytes.
Yet, here you sadly dance
alone without spotlight.
You grieve so silently
in dark blue shadows
that no one sees you there.
It is a mystery;
crying in shame you turn
tear-stained cheeks plaintively
to vaguely envisioned goddesses
asking only with voiceless sighs,
deepening heaviness:
How did life become so sad?

Moon Globes

Holiday arrayed, dazzling gauze, impeccable gaze.
Delicate paper sculpture
forest of splendor, tin foil twinkle Moonglow spell.
Gifts for me misters and mistresses,
ladies and gents as pass through take a glitter-stamped chance.
Iridescent, day-glo globes, fairy dust in billow enchantment.
Petite performance, illumined revelry – light we carry, share, renew.
If we might Believe, just enough to stare hard into flowing crystal.
See, fragile and fleeting, glass slowly melting, gently emitting.
Still peace, mindful passion, portentous glimmer, every facet effervescent.
Open adventure, taste inhaled atoms from unfathomed distance.
In this small crystal, starlight smiles.
Solar rays slow kiss strength and warmth.
Beauty answers, in her aspect of eternity.
*
Beaches at sunset, quiet waves, sparkling reflection;
sand like dulcet bedding, lazily shaded serene meditation.
*
Mountain ponds grounded by pastel flowers;
bright feathered geese flitter on high in sparse array;
fairy light just enough to wander beyond glare or haze.
*
Clear long straight road into fantasy landscape, then curving
through mythic hills, farms, forests, lit by wide blue breeze,
water-painted sky, scent of perfumed trees.
*
Winter magic freshly frosted, swirled, made new and brilliant.
Smell delicious promise, evoking caress of awe.
Call to seekers, lure of melody sweet, calm, effulgent.
Birds in homeward flight, toward early sunset.
Full of good harvest, ready to roost through darkness.
Is this blessed omen of peaceful plenty to rejoice?
Or mere preparation for harsh Winter tempests to come?
Huddling against terrible storms, well placed, safe, together.
Strangers nested, perfumed, rarified, through rugged weather,
waiting for Lightbringer, morning star, warm welcoming peace.
Sparkly lights over our Wintering fields,
festivities of generosity, best humanity can offer
— spirit of liberation immersed in joyous celebration.
*
*

Holy Chaos

Please, never mock at Eris
Lest Eris mock with you
She of star hot temper
Fells any who upset Her
You haven’t got a clue
 .
It isn’t that you’re stupid,
or even that She’s wise,
but that’s She’s wildly puissant
You aren’t dealing with Cupid
mere love spells to hypnotize
 .
She wields power of Chaos
She cares not about Right
Nor who is strong or bravest
What Eris wants She stages
to play within Her sight
 .
Will charged up with magic
Slights small or large revenged
Express desire, She grabs it
Though for you it’s tragic
She laughs and strikes again
 .
Best mortal, mock not Eris
Lest Eris mock with you
Unfazed by fear nor reason
She razes as She pleases
You haven’t got a clue
 .
 .
 .
Make Peace The Issue