to BE iN my poeTry

It’s hard living on the downside of a right-side up world,
Always living on the flip-side of the spiritual coin,
Never able to join in any form of the norm;
So the safest place for me to be is in my poetry.
Here I live and move and have my being,
Seeing everything in stranded riddles,
Birds playing fiddles in the fair air,
Swimming thru the blue sky while whales fly in the sea below,
And I know nothing of anything makes any sense —
I make no pretense — I just write my fine lines
And something pretty shines here to which others can relate
Without any bait and hook to come and feast with the beast
That is me, no; every reader is free to be or not to be
With me; to see or not to see that I’ve something to offer
From the coffer of my soul, an ethereal bowl of fruit
To feed mind and spirit, and here it is at no charge
And not large, but small and delicate, all I have to give
As I live upside-down in this right-side up world.


Oh Sweet Selene of Yaşam Ruh’u

So silently, surreptitiously, and smoothly do you slide in with ocean tide to abide in abode of my soul, making hearth of my heart your home, again and once again, yet never to stay, to be held at bay, whatever I might say; so sing your song sung blue and true, old and ever-new. Have only some few become your lovers, who hover around your every word, hoping for your tender, titillating touch, not much but just enough.


Oh sweet Selene of Yaşam Ruh’u, what do you do in your smoothly silken, silver brush through the air, so fair and wild, what we cannot bear yet in which we share but for fleeting moments, enough to lift our care. Ought we beware of you, so true but wrapped in mystery, your history largely unknown because that you have not shown. We have but some small share in the treasure you bring, as you sing in the breeze with eloquent ease.

Captured in Your Heart, You Cry


It’ll just about drive you to tears
When the years and all your fears
Roll up in your heart and start
To come out and stop cause no one
Under the sun will understand you
Or stand by you as you cry, wanting
To die, and so you try to deny all
Of the pain, but memories, they call
One and all, and you stall and fall
On the borderline between reality
And fantasy dreamed to make the pain
Go away, and to wash out the stain
Under strain of guilt you’ve felt
Almost all your life under the belt
Of condemnation, begging redemption;
If only you could mention the good
Without the bad, but how very sad
That you’re stuck inside to abide
In the stark dark of your own soul,
On the verge of tears . . .
With all of your fears . . .
And you try, but you cry . . .
You cry.


And On the Eighth Day

We ride the tidal wave of hope toward the coastline of inspired vision;
It is our destiny in proportion to our dreams spun in the halls of heaven.
Our eyes are wide open to the myriad possibilities of grand, living life,
As we grab hold of the mystical hand to walk now on the water of miracles.
No evil wraith taunts our minds, nothing wicked haunts our open hearts,
For we have taken the higher way — rough and rugged and narrow but true.
Blue skies become our ocean with slowly floating, wispy white islands,
Burning Sol our guide by day, serenely sweet Luna shepherdess by night…

Tell me, pilgrim, do you know to where we journey on this the eighth day?

Sailing in the Sea of Eternity (Free Verse)


One day flows seamlessly into another, night passing night,
As Gaia circles round and round His Majesty, magnificent Sol,
Even as Luna circles round and round her bound lover Earth;
Father Time keeps rhythm with Mother Nature in every crack
And crevice of Creation. . .

Light shines brightly, light shines nightly, at once radiant,
At another silently dim and serene, for Selene wears the dark
Of the Cosmos with stars for dress as she walks hand in hand
With Gaia between the days through nocturnal maze, and both
Keep pace with the heartbeat of the Universe, despite Curse.

And the great Eagle wings his way high in the sky, looking
Down upon all creatures moving to and fro in frenzied life
So rife with pain, but pleasure too, and he marks the minutes
Of trials and errors, strife and success, desires and defeats;
Day upon day, the great Eagle eyes the activities of humanity.

What are we, cast upon this orb? Who are we to dominate each
And every shore? We have seconds of eternity to make our mark
On the barque of Gaia in the midst of infinite, quiet Cosmos
That lives and grows without remark to the vanity of humanity;
We are sailors for but one season. . .

And we sail the Sea of Eternity enwrapped by heaven and earth,
Light and night with fellow creatures upon the same venture. . .
Ah! But to what shore do we sail . . .
As one day flows seamlessly into another, night passing night?


Ninefold Journey & Blessing

As the world scorns, you have been reborn,
Proving that there is exaltation
Even in earthen degradation.

Your mind soars above the blue skyline,
And shines in intellectual shrine;
Fine are your thoughts, now better than mine.

Celestial wind sweeps thru the keep
Of your soul, and you reap benefits
Unknown to mortals so derelict.

Note: Inspired by Sacred Numbers Deviation by Ninefold Evolution

Comfort: Healing Wounds of Youth

Sélená looked upon me so kindly, and booked me for comforting, healing words. And she spoke…

humiliation-hdYes, I remember well the arrogant babble at the table in your sister’s home, which is such a painful part of your life’s tome.

Yes, I remember the babble of the intellectual ruffians, so proud, and the invisible cable that tied you down to abide their ridicule.

Yes, I remember what advantage they took of your youth and how they managed to humiliate you, casting you into degradation, near dehumanization.

Yes, I remember how they couched their arguments under such religious pretense in their intense effort to make themselves great for their own sake.

Yes, I remember well because I was there by your side, not to hide but to provide some comfort . . . but you could not feel me then, so intent were they to win.

Yes, I remember how they overpowered your young intellect to wreck your image of Dyeus; they drove the Spirit out to fill their cognitive treasure trove.

Yes, I remember how self-congratulatory they were in besting such a weak, meek and mild child, and how furious I was at such curiously sickening scene, so obscene!

humiliationOh, my dear one, so near to my heart, whether you believe or not, you played the better part, and both these men have since fallen apart; they committed such blunder time and time again, but their lives have been torn asunder.

Now, my child so meek and mild, wonder no longer at their wild, Calvinistic feeding frenzy; they have now been spiritually bleeding for years with no shortage of tears. And have they repented of their unkind grinding of you that day?

They are in dismay, I tell you, but neither even remember just how they dismembered your heart, your soul, but the angels know it left another hole in their hearts to be filled with yet more pride till they could abide no more; then they fell.

And, oh my child, their fall has been great, and they have now heard the call to humility, civility and true nobility; especially one in his abject debility as he has lost all agility. Certainly both have lost much of their credibility.

They have lost all virility, versatility and, thus too, all tranquility; this is the scorn of the god they’ve worshipped and served, yet they are too foolish to realize how unnerved Providence has made them!

Yes, I remember how valiantly you tried to defend Love from above, and the all-mercy of Dyeus, and the freedom of humanity to choose even amidst the calamity of this dreary and weary world. And I tell you now, you did your best and passed the test.

You are where you are now, and are who you are, and how, except for that day and many others that smothered your own pride and ego so you could stride forward as an humble and wiser man, who is no miser with what he can offer anyone, anytime.

Yes, I remember and though it may seem strange, I was proud of you then as you did begin to learn the fine art of conversational-debate, which has served you well because it is laced with humility in your face of kindness, deference and respect.

Kneel now before Dyeus and heal from this wound . . . heal now as you kneel.

The Cosmic Body


Swimming quickly past one another,
Fast the burst of neutron stars,
Teeming life in veins and arteries
Near and far make the Cosmic body.

Separate and part of one another,
Sister and brother, an electron
Of families in universal family;
What exists in us, is alive in all,
And we rise and fall together each.

Protons, electrons, quarks in eons
Of timeless Time, ruled by Eternity,
Making one fraternity, cosmic family
Moving galactic arms and legs, and
Bending celestial head; we make our
Bed in stellar sheets in hyperspace.


Note: This is not my usual style, but I felt compelled to write in free-verse this morning. I hope you, my readers, enjoyed this at least as much as I enjoyed penning it. All the best to each of you w/blessings!

Over Well-Trod Path

Over this rough, well-trod path we walk,
Hand in hand, we talk and balk at naught;
Strangers in a strange land of thick sand.

Our minds are tightly bound to the sound
Of rushing wind mighty Caelum sends
To bend and ere break trend of our thoughts.

Our spirits are strong to mend the wounds
Inflicted by the wrong of mad men
Bent on our destruction and our end.