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There are High Days

When you finaly

Find your treasure.

Then…

There are the Holy Days

When your treasure

Finds you.

Incarnates

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Time is in the driver seat

Never pulling over to rest.

Fear is singing comforting songs from childhood

About how everything will be alright.

Apathy is carving up Ambition’s body

Throwing the pieces out the window.

Despair follows in the distance

Sweeping Ambition’s remains off the Road.

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Karmacast

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Urgent weather bulletin from the channel 5 Kismet trackers

…A Defensive Prominence will be moving through the area over the next few days.

The front is being fueled by unusually low expectations and visibility reducing myopic perspectives.

Use caution if going outdoors at it is expected to rain vitriol then freeze over with resentment…

___end of statement___

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Lynch lake

Θ

Bright Winter iced lake

Sun warms Eagle above snow

Bluest of cold skies

θ

Letting Go….

Ω

The East Rim

Is hung with chains

The West Rim

Is paved with roads

The Canyon between

Has depth beyond Sunlight

To a lake

That burns

For in the East

I can’t

Yet in the West

I won’t

ω

I’m Tired

Θ

The Finger

So often used in accusation

Continually sharpened

To needle out the details

Now like a pencil in June

Too short and too dull

With the paint chewed off

Unable to make a point

Not wanting to make a point

Finished making points

Any intellectual profit

In the trash

With the shavings

θ

The Warning

Θ

he Queen raised her head and spoke,

“Summer shall end one Moon early this year”.

Her subjects nodded their approval.

She continued, “As Spring began one Moon early and Summer began one Moon early so shall Fall begin one Moon early.  To this I add that Winter too shall begin one Moon early.  What stores we have not must be now drawn from the land.  From each field must come into this Palace the food of our Winter.  Placed herein by the many hands of the faithful.  To secure for all of us a future in the flowering fields of Spring.”

The subjects buzzed loudly with excitement as they hurried to their tasks.

The Queen, finished with her proclamation, excused herself and began anew her sacred task.  Laying eggs in the honeycomb.

θ

Thoth’s Scale

Ω

How many people have i done things to

How many people have i done things for

How many times have i done nothing

ω

Mute Thoughts

Ξ

Man could wrap his arms around creation

If he bothered to maintain a line

Back to the beginning

Though, in fact,

Our arms are shorter

Than our legs

Since most can’t remember

The ground they touched today

If anyone touched ground at all

ξ

Necessity

Θ

There must be Gods

For in a world of

Can Nots

There must be

An untouchable

Is

That remains exalted

Beyond the reach of

Condemnation

Able to absolve

Diminished spirits from

Doubt

Imbuing upon those

That persevere

Grace

..

Or

..

I Didn’t throttle

My boss

Today

Does that mean

I can get a

Cookie

θ

Thumbnail

Θ

A

Single

Rust colored pine needle

Balancing upright

Upon the marbled slate-blue iced over lake

Framed at the edges in deep glittering snow

Binding Spruce into great flowing columns

Anchoring an embracing domed azure sky

Crested by the blinding-white golden Sun

θ

WhoDunIt

◊

Mystery romances the lost

Ginning what truth remains

of a seed

long after it germinates

.

Celebrating each revealed truth

As gospel

fresh from the makers lips

.

Until as fire purifies ash

is the acorn found

in the flames of reason

◊

Nail Cemetery

Θ

With each strike of the hammer

The nail plunges deeper into the wood

Each hit concealing more and more

Leaving less and less to see

Until eventually the nail is gone

Pushed entirely beneath the surface

Never to be seen again

No mark or blemish

Where once stood iron

The hallmark of a skilled craftsman

θ

Waning

Φ

Pale in Forgiveness

Hemorrhaging Faith

Staining the shadows binding

in Despair

φ

 

 

Nadir

Θ

A thousand years

interned in a dungeon

Through time

i have finally stacked up enough stones

to reach the barred window

Climbing up the pile

i look out

past the bars

upon the outside

for the first time

and have no idea

what i’m looking at

θ

Chasing the Equatorial Horizon

Ω

Walking in a circle

revisiting each step

again and again

Ad infinitum

.

Ending and beginning

in the Chasm

Highpoint of memory

bottomless in despair

.

If if virtue is gold

my soul is poor

each revolution

refilling the pit with debt

.

In it collects the runoff

of apprehension and fear

as a cauldron of doubt

and crucible for folly

.

yet at the edge again

by my choice

i bring myself

wan and bridgeless

.

Though after the crossing

as i emerge and walk yet away

am i really leaving

or beginning the trip back

ω

Square Peg

Θ

The World

was once round

Then Man

Shaved off the edges

Making it square

so it would fit

in his Machine

θ

Slow Down

◊

Perfection

is a goal

Mistakes

become the

Journey

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