May 14

The phoenix's intent

The phoenix intends to die before the mirror, 
its vanity endless, blackberry eyes sharpened by glowing flame
ruthlessly chasing a forever love
a creature of Narcissus
As it has no lover, no Echo to call it back,
satiated by self-hoarded glory, pampered beauty withers
and turns black

Apr 29

Crème brûlée self

They sit on apple-ruby seats, special emblems on chests
Dessert is served! Molten towers of pale sunshine, glazed with deep caramel
are brought up, set meticulously, with simpering looks
They nod, aloof, then raise silver spoons -- 
violently, the instruments dash past,
blow past carefully warmed sugar, torched delicately to crispness
and sink down, down, down
into the heavy acceptance waiting below, 
ladled cream sliding mournfully past unflinching white walls
Feb 28

Dying Magnificence

Jan 11

The Door

I walk along these Halls and I think about how untarnished these little Birds and Statues and oddities are; they are all each consumed in their own Fantasies, vying for a lovely Lime-Green Berry when there’s a Bloodred one up much higher. I think about the true nature of Man and if Valor was a real trait, if People were not so shallow-minded and instead gave out gentleness like the lapping Waves of the Sea. I think about my own seemingly crushing troubles, and cannot realize that my troubles are large and looming because I made them so. Because I, too, am part of Mankind, and Man is simply prone to such ignorances. 
Jan 03

Night-sky blotch

Dec 30

the walk of Fraudulence (two thousand five hundred silkworms)

we are made up of atoms of unfairness, deception
atoms upon atoms upon nothing upon everything
how can we say that we are wondrous and all-knowing? 
the imaginary negative value is too great; it outweighs all but anger
and stupidity
I claim imaginary, as infinity is an imposture

do not fear those with great power
for power breeds burdens and deathly obsessions--
they are strong, only in your eyes; 
they feed upon glorified flattery, worship

we worship wars that come in barrels and ships, barrel-chested men
oh Caesar,           Great Nonpareil,           here are roses sown from our humble flesh
you are undefeatable, deadened from our tiring gaze--
you see, we are so well-meaning 
Dec 26


Nov 13


Oct 06


In the ripeness of the morning

You asked, what are we but 
purple skies, bruised and hidden
behind tasteless wine?

I did not answer you then,
being swayed by the clashing
air, bitter seeds and peels crushed
beneath my tongue,
my mind already tasting regret

Now, in the decaying eve, I wish I told you,
maybe secretly we are
glittering grapes, lucky like
amethyst, filled to spilling point
of faith and sun-warmed sugar

I want to whisper to you, sun gently rising
maybe secretly we are 
royal purple, not a cheap aubergine,
crystals polished into fine
silver dust, entrancing moonlight
into our embraces,

in the ripeness of the morning