Clay and stone

River and rock

Fire and flood

Bestowing blessings


Touch the faces of your ancestors

Through the words they once breathed

Feel them root deep inside

All the places you hide


What was yesterday?

Most importantly:

What has stayed the same?

In you, in them.



A silent breath

In a silent room

The eaves above are filling

Swirling with nihilistic questioning

Sharp wings of invisible night angels

Bearing the doctrine of nothingness

Everything turning into escaping sand

Flowing between mortal fingers

And even the love, piercing my soul painfully with yearning

Blows away in the wind of time


Because I’ve forgotten

The other half of the loop



Dear readers: Side note here, expect part 4 of ‘the snow god’ tomorrow : D Thank you for your patience! Also, this poem is a little different than my usual works, hope you enjoy it anyways ; )




Simulated breath

Into my simulated core

Rising into simulated infinity

A simulated more






To the simulated god

With a crooked middle finger

And a poison smile

Eat from his tree






A piece of you stirs

The cold metal barrel of time

Pressing your ribs

So that you cannot sleep

Confronting the Darkness (poem)

Will I ask the questions that must not be asked?

Cutting into brain stem, so that logic pours out,

A dark undulating mass

Of humming confusion


I look

I stare

Into depravities depths

Knowing it is a piece of my soul

Of my humanity


It pierces my corneas

Blinds my tongue

Dropping me off into fog

Telling me,

Ask and ye shall receive


I must understand it

Overcome it

Dominate it, like the master I so long for

Because as soon as I close my eyes

It will swallow me like a storm of sorrow

Frozen Sparrows (Poem)

I incline my head to the heavens

There is no God in the starless sky

I breathe into the seams again

Of life coming apart

Viewing the ugly humanity frozen and alone

A small voice says

“If only it would it die”

But my heart aches

Throbs in unbearable recognition

Of pain, that is finally not my own

My fingers are weak and stalled

And the stars that have fallen

Dot my horizon

Glowing radioactive away from their nest

In sympathy, whispering

“Even God could not save the frozen sparrow,

Even he would not,

Some must stay,

Some must go,

Send them away with a burst of light,

Kiss out afterglow

And bless your own.”

Cycle (Poetry)

I sprung up

A new shell

A brave receptacle for desire and sense

A slate fresh.

The morning,

Life’s dawn

Crashed about me,

And I knew,

Hope was a flower


Amidst devastation.

If we were only to pluck it

With our frail hands

Bring it close, to our sad hearts,

It would paint the day

With colors translucent

Draining its life into our fingers,

Into our very being.

For as I reentered the cycle,

Into a life coming, to be gone, never retrievable,

All the darkness fell from my spirit,

And I saw with the eyes of the uninitated





Spine (Poem)

I knelt in the scattered rocks

The city far away, a distant mirage

And there it was, bleached and small

Nestled in solitude

Twisting solitary, quite lonely

Forgotten by the powerful consumer,

The root

Broken and all loss

Like twisted steps descending their way home

Desiring to plunge into flesh, into blood

To nurture sensation and touch

To Give life to wracked nerves, and nervous firings.

A fine thing

Masterful art in silence

Beckoning under skin in its day,

Now beckoning bone white, under death’s hallowed space.

I remembered then, how fine life was, how delicate

That even when it ceased, it consumed my senses.

Debtor’s Penance (Poem)

The streets were empty

Stretching on forever

Endless vistas

Bloodless arteries

And in clinging to them, we clung desperately

To the ghost of life once lived

Offered but a glance.

Our pale lips stung with cold

As we whispered yesterdays

Felt them leave our souls

Flying away with hope

On wings stilted

And well worn.

Our only respite



When the roads we clung to

Gave way finally to wilderness

(how strange this place never visited)

Our hearts to sorrow

We lay under the wet sheets of pouring rain

Ashamed and afraid

Knowing our hand in demise

That we were

planet destroyers

World rapers

Death reapers


Finally, alone

And silent.

Wolves In Suicide Vests (Poem)

The beasts

Wrapped delicately in human skin

Stalk the curving expanse


They are not us

But they are


Bellyful of fire

Rancid hate

Eyes glowing sanctamoniously


They are hunters

We have become prey


When the skin peels

Sloughs away

And they are naked


See what is below

It is not us


They are gnarled blackness

Blood flowing from secret orfices

Stuffed with secret pain and rage


They are not us

Are they?


They descend, tear like wolves

Children from mothers

Life from breath, blood from brow


No, they are not us

Not anymore


Until they are waste also

Victims of their own zeal

No longer anything