The They

Reciprocal relationship
Oh my no
Rather exploit
Than work to sow

Disrupt the flow
A kind of magic
No doubt
But black that bleeds
Pretty purple haze

Oz of pigeons
Plentiful prey
Waltzing fantasy
Spinning always
Turning to

Say, sweetheart
Master of today
Collecting souls
As if that’s ok
What on earth will you do
When everyone can see

Finger On the Pulse

How do I know
I don’t know
How do I feel
More than I show

Tell, Shell
The colors denied me
A red-green dysymetry
Dependency serving you
And me

Last laughs denied
Colors revived
Deep seas contrived

And released
Passions deceased
Une femme qui plus rien

Un amour
A game

So far long
From afield
A fealty
You and me

A higher order
The last emergent

Lost then found
Then lost again
And then again
The pulse

The finger
The finger on the pulse
The heart on the sleeve
The hat in the hand

To universal

No longer
You and me


Do you know me, M’Aster
I know you think you do
You know the slave who
Still appeals to you

But do you know, M’Aster
Like you think you do
Do you know me, M’Aster
Like I know you

Did you find me
Or did I find you
Will you devour me
Or will I you

Did you meet me
In St. Louis
Did I greet you
In Spain

Are we dancing
In synchronicity
Or dying in vain

Will you help me
Help me show them
A way

Help me
Love them
All ways

Of hope, M’Aster
Do you care
As the myth does
Still remain to dare

Your love lost
A single rose lasts
In sweet longing
On my tongue
On my land

Spirits begging
Logos losing even as
Hearts not musing
Your dance
No longer

The Deal Breaker

He walked one day with the devil
So certain of his soul and prowess
His letters sciences plans and maps
Unaware all their inherent traps

He’ll never take me down that devil
Grounded in faith love worship skill he claimed
Duty piety ribbons stars even a crown
And with my peoples all so well fed
Still fomenting the devil’s daily bread

Love and longing for the limitless who wouldn’t
Right over the rainbow and into the void
Join me fellow journeyman he said
Or just walk with me a little ways
To my magic craft just beyond these walls
Pay no mind to that line in the sand
That has shifted again like a mirage in the clouds
Or just like one captured with a grin
but Nary a nod or a wink

Image mirage subtle stage art
A trick of the mind
Beyond space and time
A holiday in magenta
A simple desire mangled by fire
Crafted from dust doused in fine musk

A one world fantasy of sin
Where the devils will always win
All chutes and ladders and merry-go-rounds
Initiates marching mindlessly into Pinky Palace
Masters of Grift with Goals of Great Goatness

Goading herds in space
Where sheep jumping moons dance like
Jiving junipers to illuminous tunes
Your tired your weak your drunk
Give to me so We may deliver him to Gnosis
At the Golden Gate of Surrender and Sever
To the We Synch
One Man In Full
Beyond mundane fear in the Ultimate
Refined Hive Mind

Now We One-eyed Jacks
Globe-trotting Gaia-worshiping
Goethe grooming
Immortal enchanters of men bewitched
Griottes of games eternal

Violet is the new Scarlet
Science the new Fiction
Old the new Now
Fake the new Real
All you never thought it would be
Welcome, Friends to 2023

Fair Weather Friends

Fair weather friends
Meet my friends of equal virtue
Unmoved by your trends
They are better than you
You could learn a thing or two

She who pressures me into pyramid schemes
And colludes with murderous cults
Chides me when I share my dreams
Laughs when pain her lash results
The friend in summer a whim that winter quickly halts

She who claims it rude to talk politics
Candy Crushes rather than looks up
Invests in lies to get her fix
Plays along to fill her cup
Righteous Queen of don’t give a fuck

Minimizing, rationalizing, all her lame excuses
Kicking me when I’m down
No concern if I might drown
Festering wounds her barrage of abuses
Ceremoniously masked by pleasantries
Wickedly driven to craft perpetual miseries

You, fair weather friends
Meet my friends of equal virtue
Not martyrs or losers or your means to an end
Servants faithful only to what’s true
Whose every means are spinning gold
Whose every truth will soon be told
And moral courage never sold
Those who truly know . . .

The eternal blade of grass is a righteous pillar
A single touch can be the greatest filler
A look divine is beyond all space and time
A longing for the soul’s art the most sublime
And a friend of equal virtue is the heaven’s greatest sign

Uncommon Sense

In a post-truth world
With all that’s unfurled
In an age of multiplying
Masks and vaxxes

Always on the take
Ready to shoot
Fake news, false prophets
Empires in cahoots

Liars with desires
Body doubles, ghostwriters
Crisis actors, mannish mothers
Digital twins, deep fakes

What makes sense?
Sense as in senses
Common as in wealth
Your lying eyes
The gate of gates

Your nose will know
Your toes will tell
A tongue in tears
A shiver up your spin
Hairs, hares, heirs
Standing on end

The lips tingling
The scent drifting
Fingertips talking
Or at least trying
If you’d only listen

With the touch
Of your mind
With the heart
Between your ears
In the soft space
Between the words

Crowing, cooing, cackling
Screeching, howling, laughing
The waves emoting
Breathing, flowing
The susurous swaying
Of resonant reasoning

Will be revealing
In the twilight
Or when you’re sleeping
But almost always
When you’re not looking

Dirty Work

She was as useful as a
China doll in the Saharan desert

As fruitful as a
Damsel without distress

As clever as a
hand-fed toad
As wanting
as a heavy diaper’s load

Someone else to do it
Wash my dishes
Clean my toilet
Bury my dead

Someone else to do it
Fight my battles
Pay my bills
Rub my head

Someone else to do it
Take my stand
Free my hand
Transform my lead

Someone else to do it
Kill my meat
Fix my health
Make my bed

Someone else to do it
Teach me
Learn me
Feed me
Help me
Entertain me
They said,
So, she said

Someone else to do it
Govern me
Harder, longer
I like it like that
They said,
So, she said

This Too Shall Pass

Virus fever
Jealous sister
Love’s vain fury
Topsy turvy
Fingertips over tongues
Mellow days just begun

A firefly’s light
A dew drop’s plight
Sweet and sorry
A long night’s folly

A father’s fear
A mother’s tear
Buds and blossoms
Trees and mosses

Damsel’s dreams
Moody sighs
Days of lies

The highest hopes
And lowest notes
The great and mighty
The sad and flighty
All dozy dotes
And little lambs eat ivy

Who Are You?

Musician. Pied Piper. John Galt.

Tarot crafter. Football master. Lover to a fault.
The games we play.

He who makes the world dancers dance.
She who sings his praises.

They who sway
Beneath your say
We who breath your lies
Troubadours selling
Our his-story

Cooking your meals
Making your seals
Our her-story

Who am I?

Am I one, who
Rejects his gifts,
Or denies them?

Am I one, who
Abuses her faith,
Or neglects it?

Who are we?

Are we ones, who
Or Destroy?
Then deploy,
Innocents to
Test our toys?

What of our sorrow
When we cannot fashion that
Better tomorrow
We peddle
Across the waves
Ever morrow?


Killed for

Usurped for
Order ab Chao

Simple Symmetry
Replaced by
Complicated Circuitry

Gentle Waves
Destroyed by
Tesselated Tracks

Re-imagined as

Re-formed as
Clockwork Orange

Recrafted for

Plowed for

Traded for

Sell, sell
To the sorry souls for
A song

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