059 - February 28 2024 - the package

a parcel came for me
unexpected on my doorstep
starliner tickets
one way
into the heart of our star

make me ashes and minerals again
and relieve me
from this always floundering
this always always deteriorating
bag
I call my home

shunt the wicked thoughts
and the careening desires
(I cringe to remember it all)
from my skull

return me to the heart of the reactor
and then
later later later

to the drifting cold gas
of the infinite

055 - February 24 2024 - The Way Backward

I do take seriously the notion that
the point of no return is always further
along the pathway than I probably thought,
but, that said, late turnings increase the labour
of reclaiming what’s lost, and thorned troubles branch
back where I trod, with my heart now made dour,
for when I strode down I was not an old man.

But I speak with conviction and with ardor
when I say I’ll come back to where I began
with my misfortunes earned transformed to favour;
even if it is my own coffin I drag
from the brambles into my purified grave.

038 - February 7 2024 - A Short Pledge

I take wending routes, through soft tropical seas
with the southern crane perched smartly on my left
and my little bark creaks, following the breeze
while sidereal time makes gentle my breath

whatever such troubles, left stacked on the dock
I fled from, they have drifted now from my sight
the clamour and bellows by calm waters stopped
and nothing but peace between I and the night

and well may I turn, when my wrappings come free
and my stitches are plucked, and my plans are set
and well may I strike with the best company
and well may I right things, done wrong,  but not yet!

034 - February 3 2024 - on winter

they told me the winter could instruct my mind
that it, relentless, cracks and peels our pretense
it is not without mercy, nor is it kind,
it simply is, in true sanctity and depth

its power is peace, it lulls the world to sleep
it blankets fallen leaves in its soft domain
and far below wracked barren branches it keeps
small burrows snugly, until spring comes again

but the call to pause, when one wanders the void
is a siren’s lullaby, make no mistake
this place may be tranquil, but it is not warm
and once you succumb to its call, you won’t wake

033 - February 2 2024 - dark dogs

I came out from my sickness with a new sense
purity of mind and resolve of the heart
that for time I’d wasted I’d make recompense
by promising all I had left to my art

whatever dalliances, tawdry, held me
let them now rot; I consign them to the scrap
I live for the pen, and language’s fancy:
O! the breath of the muse is all I can ask

I lost much to illness, and my time is short
dark dogs ring the low flame burning at my desk
from the shadows their eyes watch, lucid as quartz
for the moment I waiver, and dream of rest

032 - February 1 2024 - A Spacewalker's Lament

this little port here will not yield to my wish
complain though I might, with a crackling plea
and the countless stars, blazing behind my back,
still and gelid watch, silent mitts on the screw
as I burn my air, helpless, witless, miles aloft

can this be my truth? (I put it to the door)
this girl whom I loved with her vacuum cold heart,
could deign to spurn me, where each breath is precious
while inside she sighs, quivering gulps of air
and not one desire to share from her rich tanks

030 - January 30 2024 - Little Elegy to our Ship

Thus on we go, our small ship drifting slowly
I cannot know what dangers lie before us
yet she’s secure, and we rest in her surely
as we approach the heat of Dido’s furnace

out at the fold, where diamonds come up coldly,
to the sea sphere, where the ground has no respite
to Delia, the orb of art and story
To Cynthia, where the Founder lost his life

This ship of ours is running out here darkly
toward a plot so curious and bizarre
that they would trust it more if we spoke falsely
these strange reasons that we’re in amongst the stars

023 - January 23 2024 - axtric

Axtric, the brother I left behind me,
though only slightly later would he be
when we were born, on the same day, and in
the same bed, such as all lives must begin,
we lived different, and I had to wander
and he, poor lad, was made to surrender
to the concerns of dying parents, and
and their growing dementia, while I, grand
and stately in my offices of court
place myself among the noblest sort.

Long did I think that this brother of mine,
who once was my mirror, although some time
has passed, and I hear that he is still thin,
was in every respect the lesser twin,
but now I doubt, for here among the best
I trust no one, and each day is a test
of diplomacy and safety, equal,
where no misstep will deserve a sequel
yet Axtric has none he lives in fear of
the simple seek only friendship and love.

022 - January 22 2024 - the barons of geyst

the barons of Geyst draped in furs
rose in the days of the old king
and sired a child of such allure
that of her grace the bards would sing
from one orb to the next

misfortune alas was her fate
she fell into a founder’s hex
for broken vows and love misplaced
and all the anguish war effects
were sadly to be hers

the vicedauphin of her own world
a promised groom since she was young
with shifting politics conferred
although her helpless heart was stung
unto another bride

no sustenance would she partake
and never would her tears subside
from sorrows that no words could slake
as to her chambers locked inside
in silken sheets she curled

018 - January 18 2024 - to the founder

On the left eye; a fierce and roiling sea,
a lonesome figure set against the waves
no other soul to mark that he would be
the first of many, cursed to early graves.

And whether it was monsters, or the gale,
or some capricious fortune quick foreclosed
the measure of his courage, no avail
against the judgement Cynthia imposed.

Thus on these waters, when I guide my ship,
my eyes surveying cross this fearsome stretch
that punishes the blithe in her cold grip,
I pray for life, but never discount death.

015 - January 15 2024 - On the Poet's Wanderlust

I never feel quite so good as I do
as when I am outbound, into the sky
and none of the draw of my hearth and home,
nor comforts quiet life supply,
seem quite as radiant and true
as my desire to roam.

Of my wanderlust some can not construe
what makes me to endlessly turn my eye
to faraway hardships I’ll face alone;
to which I can give no reply.

Such are the pleasures I pursue,
and my life is my own.

001 - January 1 2024 - Goats and Monkeys

This is a speck of dust I keep in a small corner
It’s so small that the entire universe can see it
and entire galaxies and clusters of drifting gasses
a billion years wide can rub it between their fingertips
and the grease of the universe can accrue on its surface
and turn it gradually into a pearl of infinite roundness

This is a universe I blow off my palm like a speck of dust
It rolls about gathering with dander and crumbs
to form civilizations and aspirations and notions of the sacred
jammed in behind the back leg of my writing desk