Poem: Unsaid

 I sit with the phone and think

I know there's a poem in here,

Somewhere;

If not a poem, then

Some profound observation,

Some secret knowledge

For me to impart.

I sit thoughtlessly scrolling,

Feeling the words, the thought,

The feeling at the edge

Of my awareness:

Alas, it's not to be

No wisdom, only

Vapid emptiness

And the sense that there

Is something important

Left unsaid.

(c) 12.8.2020

Poem: One Magic

One Magic

Sipping Tulsi tea, telling Time
To mind its passing thoughts on
Silent whispers strangers slip
Between sheets of parchment
Rolled upon talented tongues tied
With ribbons made of ancient tales
The gods would have hidden beyond
Bifrost, trembling to think we might
Find them here, cast among runic
Puzzles precision perfect, riddles
Secretly solved and wisely written
Mysterious missives in words
Unknown to all but present
Company, sung to tunes heard only once
By One alone, who wanderers silent
In the night, recalling Time
That was and Time that is and
Time that is to come

Poem & Photo ©18 August 2019

Poem: the magick of reading

I read because words

are magick, we

became human

with the first utterance

in the beginning

there was the word, and

the word was with god,

and the word was god

the spell was cast, and

words became creation

became destruction, become

death;

black magick

magick has no moral,

no intent, and word

wisely wielded become

palliative, become

restorative

become nativity;

white magick

behold the chalice

of knowledge, break

the bread of fear

eat, for hunger is

your nature; drink,

for you will always

thirst

appetite for gnosis

is only sated when

the magick is consumed

(c) 4.28.18