Settled / Chi Chi

I hid in an art of lies

marvelous error

shaking the QI over

empties and strange

synchronous events

my electronic I Ching

says a dry lake bed

pitfall luminous

water over fire

marvelous error

.

or not! ha!

The Service of Seraphim

Analogue morning angel dust it just is like that: a whistle stop.

No choirs on hills and landscapes of the east end in winter.

A glass for the delema, a song through the cages of coffee cup

thickness and drip prior to advanced dialogues of what's business.

So you have laughable sunrise and raised hawaiin delights

I catch the fog just two stops over and doors open to crowds.

Iron Butterfly

Tell me it's over, your increasing whine, the staggering plovers.

Where the drugs stopped by in a nether world hearse

your copious insight into reasons why I shouldn't be straight,

the ton of sodden weeping, the sorrowful blight in larders of soup.

Truck into the great mansions of paradise, the foul honey drips.

And clocks all set differently ring alarms in the ruins of parenthood.

Esquiga

You swear you heard a knock, you went to the door,

and the wind reminded you of the misplaced children,

the mourning bellow antlers of dusk calling, and

in your heart the living drum is echos of a name:

the last drop of rain..., the place on your shoulder

where a soul rested from an ancient clan of the eagle.

The silence is shadows in the heart, there's a knock

on the door.

Anger

"Anger with its poisoned source...." how mindful the detractors

to embody lust of hatred as its fevered excuse, thoughts damnable.

to breathe the fumes of a veinius shell backed multitude

sidewinding into coils over the way of its venomous feed.

so truck out of time kissing polished words to secure the route

a foulness rot in the flesh of rooms. "that thou must slay, to

weep no more."

Unclosing Valley

Albatross casting fire into dark thick specter valley,

It lent the flame to its long endurance darkness.

I will the omen stroph into nondeception of thickness

Spirit day of souls, a world plans your next pain,

and in not moving the cauldren fosters the change

undying eternal root beyond all limits.

Proton Heat

At history barking the grand complaint for to out the dark rainbow

if money was a crystal equation mask the hall of mirrors distort

convex concave the room is antidote to its velvet crumb shadow

I whistled past the awakening fire and blew the dusty powder

if translation were a vivid clock I knew it was the clutch horse

of that listless iron direction the tracks will never meet conquistador.