The Limits of Life Lessons

Originally written on 10/13/2013

The Limits of Life Lessons

Our time upon this planet is fleeting

And we are told a worthy endeavour

Would be the careful conscious accreting

Of some knowledge to solve for forever.


What genuine data can we offer

That hasn’t been preached by every priest?

What authentic lessons may we proffer

Not already sanitized and released?


Eccentric life lessons are hideous

To those with an appetite for control.

They conceive of only invidious

Condemnation of that crooked old soul.


Let no man tell you what to learn from life.

The sleepwalkers that demand this are rife.

Last Night I Dreamt of Wade England

Last Night I dreamt

Of Wade England, hero of Ulthar

Climbing into my room

On Chicago fog feet

He challenged me

On Old Gods and Elder Things, On

The cheapening of the Dreamlands, and the

Idolatry to the zoog Mickey.

I answered as best I could

Pleaded my case, out of space

That our prophet had been

Deconstructed, dethroned

Our nightmares made plush

He left me then

That Wade England, hero of Ulthar

Warning me that strange Aeons

Come and go

And that Man & Death

Come and go

And that we would be

Elder things, incomprehensible & terrifying

To bright & shining children

Midsummer Morning

Oberon, Titania and Puck with Fairies Dancing
Oberon, Titania and Puck with Fairies Dancing (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Written on 01/13/2013

Midsummer Morning

I’ve traveled from the faery land, far from the western shore

I’ve returned to simple hearth, to the home I knew before

No ogres here, no giants tread, no dragons ‘neath the sun

My sacred charge has left that land, and so my task is done


And now I sup on good food, and sleep in untroubled bed

But the thoughts of faeryland do still dance within my head

For by torchlight I had seen flashing wing and silver smiles

And strange vistas were shown to me, that seemed to go for miles


I drank strong drink, tasted meat, the scrolls I did devour

And though it was gone by daybreak, still I felt it’s power

The dance I danced, the plans I laid, among the pirates bold

And the tales of their adventures were something to behold


But faeryland takes its toll, and all must pay the piper

And my sleep was troubled, for I slept next to a viper

So I packed my bags, headed out, back to the lands I knew

I left behind the faery, and the magic of that crew


And still I don’t know, I really don’t, was the cost too dear?

Was I wise to not risk all, or was I just ruled by fear?

Now if I return to that land, I have no guarantee

To find that torchlight smile, though I search for eternity


So I wait, and wonder, and seek to labor in the field

And search for something to ensure my fate is not yet sealed

That I will find the key, find the trick, find the golden coin

And by torchlight find that land again, my faeries to rejoin.


Ode to Chompsky

Originally written on 01/31/2014

Ode to Chompsky

The Tyrant King walks across the plain

At midnight. His feathers

A striking array of green and yellow stripes

Bred to be invisible when he lies

Among the tall grasses, now mark him as

The once-ruler of this prairie

A Lear with sharp claws on his feet.


Driven from his pride

This old playboy

From predator to scavenger, from king to bandit

Now hunts alone.

He stops under that yellow moon

Heavy and pregnant in the sky

He smells the air, he tastes the air

With forked tongue. With slitted eye

Seeing spectra no man can know

He scans the horizon, looking for a night-time meal.


Finding the hint of something he

Runs off to run it down.

His legs, his weapons

Taking a while to gain speed

His counterweight tail out behind him

His body a carnivorous missile

His prey some rodent, or smaller

Lone plant-eating cousin.


Does he remember the early times

With his many loves, and the big game?

Is he our memory of early times

Of passion, of majesty, of glorious error?




He is an animal, and blissfully escapes

His memory, and our metaphor.


Five Tankas

Originally written on 03/03/2014. These are tankas. 

Five Tankas

The stopped clock is right

As often as you need time

To stand still for you

Is no easy task for guys

Who want to hurry up love


Polar vortexes

Crush into the land of us


Of our mutual desire

And the chasm between we


The world is on fire

Hearts burn against each other

Calls for peace ignored

By blood that demands to beat

So let it get hot in here


The patch of black ice

Sent my care spinning around

Right through the mailbox

That evidently can’t catch

The letters from you to me


I’ve cut out the carbs

No more bread, no more sugar

But there’s temptation

So now will you be my steak

Or will you be my pasta?

Dreams and Songs

Originally written on 04/27/2014

Dreams and Songs

Silly loves songs may hold no place

in my heart

I do not love what they love,

I think

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan

Of the silly

But their view of love leaves me cold

And diabetic


I’ve never really had the knack

For relationships

Whether shunned or shunning, I’ve always been

Somewhat alone

My dreams are my constant companions,

what dreams may come

Reality oftens seems a poor shadow

Of fantasy


But surely I can’t be the only one

Out there

With these thoughts and notions leading them

On a Merry Chase

But dreams are such concrete things, and dreamers are nothing

But a mist

So they pass by, see through each other

And never notice


I do try, mind you

To socialize

To meet, to greet, to entreat, to find

Other dreamers

But I don’t have the knack, as I said


I see through many, and more see

Through me


But I will not sing, nor embrace,

Those silly love songs

Better an eternity of solitude

Than that

What dreams I have, I have

My own

And I will not trade them for the dreams

Of others

Blackened Sole

Originally written on 01/04/2014. This is a pantoum

Blackened Sole

As you begin to cook the fish,

You begin to wonder

About the size of the dish,

The ingredients you put in.


You begin to wonder-

Carbohydrates could be karma,

The ingredients you put in.

Proteins and fats are nirvana.


Carbohydrates could be karma,

About the size of the dish.

Proteins and fats are nirvana

As you begin to cook the fish.

With Condemnations to Billy Joel- A Poem

Note: This poem is a pantoum.

With Condemnations to Billy Joel

And still the World does burn

As we dance around the pyre

But we refuse to learn

Absent truth from present liar


As we dance around the pyre

We do not lack for knowledge

Absent truth from present liar

A fact we all acknowledge


We do not lack for knowledge

But we refuse to learn

A fact we all acknowledge

And still the World does burn