you hear me
but you don't know me
you see me
but you don't own me
I want to see you
though I don't know you
I need to hear you
but I won't own you
I want to know God
but I can't see God
I want to hear God
but I can't phone God
when I see you
I want to love God
when I hear you
Goddess with spiritual vision
when I need you
divine calling me
when I see you
I know gracious God
blessed loving God
acknowledging spirit
spatial you and me
when I feed you
need into delight
God feeds us
holy psalms and holy broth
with that sound
with that sight
love bleeds for both
precious you
and precious me
love needs us both
so precious light
illuminates real love
for us to feel
for us to see

          * * *

 

what about change
things incomplete
something completely strange
about unspeakable doom
maybe that is
too much gloom
imagine change
knocking on
your doomsday door
so much fear
what could be
perilous change
vulnerably close
when one can
taste it
doom's rank odour  
smelling it
rectified transformation
drifting close by
those numbered notes
we tend
sounding harsh  
we take
crowned by remorse
life attends to it
defendable doom seems
such a senseless dose
so who knows
why even try
what might come
who knows why
God left us
most often defenseless
costs that leave us senseless
approaching doom
seems so forlorn
those endings
attached to beginnings
still beginnings
flow into endings
let's ratchet things up
perhaps the biggest challenge
trying to describe
what doom truly is
letters and numbers
events and actions
perhaps blue skies
those once vibrant
now wilting blooms
volcanoes better describe
what is what
tribe to first nation tribe
what about doom's crazed ideals
razing lava what a nightmare
stalking our flaming dreams
into what is real
a blameless cosmic seam
I wonder if doom
resurrects some euphoric challenge
locked into life
doom's indescribable lust
chained with resistance
truly mired
condemned as existence
shackled in an inescapable room
a crypt perhaps
adorned with apocalyptic gloom
revealing almighty God
absolute with lustful revenge
just a pointed finger of God
inscribing every powerful challenge
describing every deflowering doom
derived like an eclipse
compromised rings
evolving around the sun
believe the wretched moon
revolution that can't come too soon
such creative rapture
isn't always true or blue
captured as existence
colouring a figment world
delivering pigments of gruesome doom
challenging fearsome change
isn't necessarily
completely gloom
life's challenges
certainly shake us
sometimes ripping out
heart and soul
talking fanatic life
speaking about new heights
lives so often separated
segmented with resistance
clandestine holy
brandishing its doomsday knife
sacred is unincorporated
diminishing existential rights
change ne'er devoid of fear
such an orbital challenge
avoiding mortal strife

               * * *

 

stretch my haunted neck
upon some bloody block
that hooded headsman
hoists his hungry axe
wanting blood
seeking gauntlet death
that last earthly thing
I shall ever see
a willow basket full
of dribbled tortured heads
decapitated lives
death's gruesome mosaic
brilliantly smeared across
those bloodied faces
remember one cannot fake it
recall Mary Queen of Scots
death encompassed by a stony castle arch
those unforgiving politics
like remorseless bloody pastoral March

                    * * *

 

give me pleasure
help me get through
all life's stormy weather
give me what I want
give me what I need
still I just bleed and bleed
no one can save me
there are no saviours
all this ridiculousness
all our crazy human behaviour
what if I had a trillion dollars
would all that money
make me glad
or would I still wake up
feeling lost and sad
thank you for the sunshine
thank you for letting me have
those little things that are good and fine
if I had a loyal dog
if I had a funny monkey
maybe I'd still end up
a wanting needy junkie
what if the sun burned
a hole in my mind
would I still be crawling
could I truly ever be kind
all we want is love and caring
what about when we end up alone
would we end up being stoned and staring
into the blazing sun
into our raging souls
would life ever be truly fun
or would we be stony and cold
I don't know if I really need pleasure
how can I even begin to measure
what I want and need
would there be any rules I had to truly heed
in my head I think and think
while my body continues to want to eat and drink
what if pleasure gave me everything I need
what if life's true measure
could come from a holy book we could read
what if prayers were just a sacred song
would we always wake up dead
or just always simply wrong
what if pleasurable dreams were all we need
what if measurable time wasn't what it seems
what if milk and honey could be life's icecream
maybe then we'd find immeasurable pleasure
in just being good and clean
what if all our fear and dread
were just stupid things stuck in our stupid heads
if we had that funny monkey
would we still just be a pleasure junkie

                       * * *

 

what redemption
can we be redeemed
some specific invention
is Holy what it seems
what about love and peace
some carnal convention
unholy lies and deluded dreams
should we die laughing
why isn't life pie and ice cream
maybe it's all too baffling
everything we're born with
often reality is stifling
maybe truth is just a myth
could an honest sun teach us
should faith and religion
buy us time
can politics redeem us
what if shining stars
could teach us rhyme
should love and hate contain us
why in heaven's name
can't we just be fine

             * * * 

 

here it is
blustery March
mixing it up
flour and water
half drenched
half parched
some seasonal paste
rank in this dank foggy cup
winter has been harsh
folk are hoping spring
will make certain haste
yet frost still trims
winter's accosting face
ice rims the crusted marsh
a chorus of puddle ducks dabble
relishing each open seam
that poor feathered rabble
paddling north and upstream
here it is
still cool earthy March
not yet trust worthy spring
winter's cussed mirth
not yet quite over
maybe rascal April
will passionately bring
more radiant sunshine
adding compassionate warmth
maybe then we'll see
with our faith and belief
a palette of greening clover
wearing rings of purple crocus
bearing respite and some keen relief
a redeeming welcome guise
of snow white snowdrops
as wild violets bravely rise
beginning their rave and bloom
perhaps old man's vying winter
with all his trying snow and ice
so much frigid bluster
will finally rollover and sigh
once and for all
be truly over
April's sure willing worth
heralding new timely life
spring's warmer clime
such sweet perfume
greeting receptive rebirth
welcome fleet spring  
will be here soon

            * * *

 

what about love
those eyes and lips
what chancy love does
far below
so this fantasy
high above
that hippy love
those dancing hips
such a playful shimmy
that radioactive shaking
such mesmerizing afterglow
a moaning apocalypse
this jungle love
love's stratified acropolis
something gooey sweet
melting in our mouths
your cagey looks
those honey moves
I frantically dread
this bomb going off
blowing up my uncertain heart
encircling my vulnerable soul
what perilous risk
satisfying words I wish
I'd somehow found
those gratifying sounds
I've roundly abandoned
thoughts of sweet love
even love's bitterness
blinding my eyes
it's dark night again
deep inside
my illogical head
I wish charms
I somehow
could even
biologically find
those candy apple thoughts
bits and pieces of ruby love
sugar feeding my tragic mind
leading up to things
I should
those moves
love craves
if only
I ever would
what smoldering
love does
to my animal kind

            * * *