pontificating lies

Something I found I wrote years ago. I don’t think I ever posted it here, but if so I apologize for the duplicate.

We are creatures
pontificating lies
designing illustrious
holy relics
men and women
holy sites
cities and factories
churches
holy wealth
cause
nation and allegiance
holy love
lust and longing
holy anger
justice liberty
and words
music and dance
sun
and moon
stars
holy earth
mother
sky father
holy rituals
rites
liturgies
holy holy holy
ever and anon
holy holy
wholly to cover
our graves
brave flower petals
of no significance.

Canal – A Poem

The storm
and a counting of raindrops.

A kind of fantasy
in this eggshell world.

Let it pass
over oak and in shallow pools too
rich

too rich

to appreciate its complex
verocity.
Oh, but me designing these
simple designs to
a terracotta life.

Kind words seek penance.
Alarmed, the gift of reason
secludes
the vanishing byways of a canal
long lost to disrepair.

If a dream then a dream.

But if?

A Conscientious Ritual – A Poem

Grieve in the pines and let their
abundance signal a spring
apart.
Our ghosts we fabricate with ribbons
to bleed on the naked floor.

A conscientious ritual formed by
generations of suffering flow out of wounds
too discreet to divulge
but in that vain language of metaphor. It is only
this
I speak.

I will, I will and I will

and that worth brings islands of rational
hallucinations. The epitome of a resigned life
speaks in ordered tones.

Tell me a story in the meadow we visited
in a yourh that only occurred
as we imagined. I will hold to it
as a sacred
pact.

The hyacinth blooms in the
radience of a
silver dawn. It is now
but again to be.

Wickedness – A Poem

Many suns reflect under
brilliant memories
which erode under the flow of the rain.
My cause is remedied by the open
liquor cabinet.

To speak of that fair day

is the only fantasy still afforded.

A ballet of wickedness spirals before me
as I sip my drink in an abandoned
lust.

Go now. There the door, the gate,
the swift shadow fleeing
from the brightness
it brings.

Two Moons – A Poem

A shell on the shore
of another world, a moon (or is it two)
so distant yet still a burden.

Begin this journey
she says in an eloquence so desperate
it brings a smile.

I am a harbinger if my own misfortune

allows.

We consume a delicate sauce of intricate
ingrediants lost in a spell of transmission
between this world and whatever we
conjure.

I speak but what is it worth. Just a reason
to return endless to a shell

along a beach

adrift in a dissolving consciousness.
The second moon recedes
in continual witness.

There is a fabric which rips and is thus much
more versatile.

Say to me my wrong stance.

A shell on the shore ponders.

A Cottage – A Poem

Now and never be
I.

Recall the mist
swept
from a violent ocean, waves crashing
near the beach cottage and
our skin and hair turned salt.

Grass struggling in the sand filled
soil.

I love you

I mentioned once,
in those eerie morns as the firelight
spoke to the innermost confines
of your spectral profile.

And now you and now I and now
never be I.

A gaze upon the furthermost reaches
of our desire.
Ephemeral in this burnt testimony
which neither of us can speak.

And there the cottage,
and here the waves and then my regret.

Beautiful you stand but once.

Depleting Orbit – A Poem

Our,
my vision is static.
An opaque noise hums
crimson then
blue.

The borderline underscores our,
my heart.
A resonance of depleting orbit.

Let us,
I am
become an insatiable vagabond,
like a mountain wind clouding
the vale in a fine mist.

From a distance they,
you approach.
Red lights signal at a crossing
an unmoored vessel lost
in an eastern sea.

Two Poems

A Bridge

A feeling {a memory(?)}
winter desperation
lights on a bridge, snow
falling.

A temporal euphoria.
Silence
scattered in the air.

Bourbon

I believed the
blood
of the anointed would wash the sin
of my apocalypse
under the fields of my bourbon brethren,
but I capitulate
the sorrow of the kin which I failed.