dark and gloomy
the darkness offers friendship
hiding in empty alleys for a fix of mystery
doodling pentagrams and yin-yangs
looking into empty rooms and projecting fantasy.
I tell you there’s not much left to say
    and you don’t answer.
Twin pathways converge, but still no answer.
The night is made for dreamers.
The dark explains it all — but in its own language.
The key is not to be found.
Laughter echoes in empty hallways.
Soon it won’t matter; but soon is never now.
I smoke burning poisons and cry for death.
Death will be here soon enough
— now is time for potent dreaming.
dark and gloomy
forecast of an out of pattern afternoon.
Patti Smith echoes coarse dark sentiments
and I feel the blood of conquest 
    rushing through my veins.
Anything could happen.
Testing survival is the only thrill.


(ty DE Navarro)
Darkness, quiet, descent to rest, to reconsider.
Consequence, what becomes after, looms;
pre-ghosts glower in light’s fade.
Wet dead leaves invite scavengers, nesters,
gestating monsters to take hold before ice hardens.
Deep in a well of emptiness,
cold damp tells ancient stories of vengeance,
of misery dredged and judged.
Harsh nature wails, whips, strikes with frigid fury;
harridan mother teaches her cubs fanged cruelty, bloodlust.
Controlled fire, resourcefulness of conscious survival,
churn of awareness channel of mind,
river of imagery precursor to action.
Here. Now.


Security, blue jeans’ soft structure.
Firm legs, resolve fluctuates.
Icy rain films milieu a dense noir.
Surreal street reverberates etheric horns.
Cold walk.   Glare pavement.
Shadow assumes shape of comfort, companion in
adventure.  Smell of condensation,
scent of danger.
Silent choir echoes.  Out of sync
Remember you told me.  I told me.
Mountains beg to be climbed.
But at peak there’s descent; and
back in town there’s the rent;
and it’s endless, the grime, the grind.
I tried.  Yes, my effort was ungainly,
blind grasp of transient reward.
Too little kind; too much abhorred —
a story my mind explores, re-explores,
to escape tow of current rage.
Soggy, chill, praying for surcease in sleep,
yet hyper vigilant.  No blame.
Any salient focus of will propels forward.


The spell breaks.
Dangling chrysalis erupts — abrupt
crash, tangle, excavation.
Shaken, dazed, awareness stirs.
Anxiety prays return to slumber,
swift shrink from compelling adumbration.
This world excretes damp, dinge,
rampant distress; potent phantasms
slip, slide, skip.
Dashing bits, myth and whimsy frisk,
beguile to soften landing,
allow fragile mind to absorb shock and awe.
Bitter wars, forces of survival,
transcendent and bright
rain like liquid fire.
no longer safely cocooned
unconscious, free to twist and turn
poisoned glands, expel taint
through sweaty pores.  Severed, never more
secured on my thick
sure branch
oblivious of storms
not of my creation.
not flying
unrestrained to be amazed by
each blossom,
every sunny ray
seething beatific energy,
graceful flow,
buzzing breeze.
not sure, secure, nor
unleashed and aware.
standing, staring,
without leaping,
at this desperate precipice;
embodiment seeping,
limply falling,
ripped, torn
along each disturbed rock face.

Close to the Edge

Close to the edge, so close
And the fire’s burning.
The music’s playing old familiar memories.
It’s a grey day in late autumn
In a year of fear and hopeful reawakening —
Is there hope of resurrection?
In these grim, grim times?
But so grim?
A time to newly discover
The strength within;
To again see life as a discovery 
    — can it be done?
On a day so grey, in a year so fraught with peril
    and misadventure?
One at a time:  take things one at a time,
And they seem so small and easy.
Why hold expectations that lead to dismay,
Hiding from fantasy?
Breathe, meditate.
Build dream towers to climb to,
Not nightmares.
But it seems so safe and easy to hide
In the darkness
To never utter another “I”
To cease.
Why not?
Close to the edge, so close.
The fool looks over his shoulder.
The wise goat climbs with care.
The lonely may jump in despair.
How to be alone and strong?
Ask the high priest —
All is within/without you.
But to find that smile of understanding?
It is a search worth taking
Slow, easy, breathe.

A Little Night Music

She appeared
out of the night.
Dark mystery arousing
distraction, concern.
(When will I ever learn
to let these heartbreaks
in the making
pass me by?)
Voodoo of attraction,
sacrosanct intimacy.
Impelled to submit in throes
of flagrant ecstasy.
Do what you will with me
in our secret rendezvous.
Then relinquish me to go
back to my wastrel ways.
She grabbed me with such force
I felt I could die.
And that was just her eye
pulling me close
to continue
our conversation.
Great conflagration
arose in my heart.
So adept at her art
of igniting
Cruel fate
mocks nocturnal fantasies.
Yet, swept up in delight,
facing dualities,
the wrong and the right,
I too easily sell my immortal soul
for her eternal night.
She tastes my sin
drip laughing from my skin.
I freely forswear my life.
Fierce pierce and suck
lunge in the for kill.
There’s no greater thrill.
We descend into dark fall.
Fade into shadow before approach of light.


Moving out from the center.
Not just circles, fields of play,
unconscious art outlined in grains,
in Earth outcroppings.
Color, texture, depth and hillocks
to delineate geography over millennia.
Too long, too high, too overarching a view.
Inside, incremental gains, slow glimmers
simmer.  We want our feast NOW!
Ready, so surely ready to shout in unison.
Spinning in separate circles.
Toes in, arms akimbo stiffened to protect.
Moving in different rhythms to different visions.
Bumping, bruising, rousing demons.

Merlyn Enchanted

In secret unlit chambers
guided by wizardry
all eternity his(Hers) to see.
Omniscient night, he(She) stirs wonders,
bubbling sublime,
catches fluid rhythms in catechisms,
spells out vivid ceremony,
illumined rhyme before his(Her) avid mind.
Walls of obsidian crystal, unable to penetrate.
What we do for love’s allure; allowing
liens upon a will of magic.
Enchanted inward, intense, piquant elixir.
Decanted pure fumes,
deep draughts of ecstasy,
conjured music
commingle to frolic with merry sprites,
lost in beauty and laughter.

mix phor meta

double, double toil and trouble
mix in moonbeams dripped from Hubble
with a pinch of housing bubble
dump in tons of scraped off stubble
just a taste of wry
with a twist of lime
seconds cloned from time
and, Voila! a rhyme to rollick
swing your partner, tase your Dalek
what a party tea for frolic!
double down, but “Don’t Panic!”
brewed up for fun – enjoy the manic
d a n c e

spokes from fate’s wheel

A hard snow, sleet, hail
is soon to fall
You won’t be ready;
but you need to clear out space
for impending
I dreamed I was awake in a place I had often dreamed of.
I said:  “This is the place of my dreams.”
Then, an icy dead hand grabbed my shoulder,
revealing my fear.
‘I do not fear you.”  I said.  I lied.
“You are only my imagination.”
She cackles, pushing her scaled hand
into my subconscious flesh.
This is not how the dream is meant to be;
not how I remember.
When I wake, as I always do,
I am disappointed.
* * *
Accept our human coil
wrap sweetly as eider
cozy, drowsy, dreamy
into a field of play
Engage in battle strategies
Enrage when others fail to please
all the while that deep wide smile
sees outside the eyes and miles
into a great well of laughter
a sad thing in life is when you meet someone
over an evening, dissolving separation,
finding eternal meaning and validation,
learning to be in love
until reality of the human kind steps in
A to the core belief
in the self — miracle of seed expressed
sweet spot of bliss and exultation
deep reward for daring to feel complete
creates no war, no competition, no other to defeat.
These illusions of aggrandizement belong
to self doubt,
to desperate deifying of right and wrong,
to self-alienation.
grand fantasy set free to wander
obsesses through your mind
Don’t let go — just be who love has made you.