"Psalm II"
For a sonnet is too constraining
And Freedom is Anarchy
What form may my words take
But if not Praise
I lift my voice to exalt the LORD
Though my body is carved with sin
My God has Faith in Me
Why though, should I be chosen?
Lord, I am Wretched-- do not touch me
For I am not worth to wash Thy Feet
Yet You embrace my weeping soul
Does this not tarnish the Glory
And the Power
And the Kingdom,
Or perhaps,
"Where have all your books gone?"
Books and books and
Books
Filled with old thoughts
Scratched
With a pen and some
Ink
How much time spent writing
Forgotten
Dust has settled, the wildew
Rots
Only insects no inhabit
Pages
Lost forever in bygone
Libraries
O Alexandria! Wherefore art
Thou?
Hidden in the sands, buried
Underneath
Now all the Children play
Idly
Only one curious mind
A Weary Traveler's Song
They say,
"Night is darkest
just before the dawn."
But you say,
"I do not see the sun,
there is only darkness,"
As you return
to Morpheus' dull embrace.
I have tried to guide you,
O Weary Traveler,
Through this, our Dark Night
My torch, I have borne it
For you,
O Weary Traveler.
It is not much,
I know,
But it is all
I know
And all I have, I give
to you,
my weary little one.
But alas, you do not follow...
Treestand Lookout
Far Away
From little boxes
Hunter's perch
I sit.
Woken too early
Earth's wet lungs
stir.
All brown and grey
and Evergreem,
Spring has yet to sprung.
But Bird is out,
Brook is singing,
and the Flowers' children
raise to the greeting
of the Sun.
The Barrow-Wight's Song
Lured in by Friendly Faces
Beaming in the dark.
"Rest from thy daily races,
Join us in the lark."
There you find no pain
Nor either any sorrow,
Nothing there could you disdain
In that gentle hollow.
Lured in by Friendly Faces
Life began to wax and wain
In comfort, with creeping paces
Dark: shame and pain--
Frightful now! Your call?-- "Hark!"
Unheard in their burrow
Left alone in dark
"Come! Play and wallow."
Lured in by Friendly Faces.
"Rest from those daily races."
"Haikus"
;
None can feel my pain
Save Atlas, who held the world---
Without him, all die.
--- --- ---
A room of one's own...
But where can I find my place?
All the rooms are gone.
--- --- ---
Recall, sweet sad eyes.
Little girl, you are still loved.
Rest now, my Lorin.
--- --- ---
Foggotten
Thinly veiled,
Fog creeps
Across the forest path
The Path unseen
Blocked with Mystery
How terrible
The Unknown
Do not follow the footsteps
of the Will-O'Wisps
Lost out in the dark...
Remember
What did Father say?
What has Mother taught you?
O Weary traveler--
Remember!
What did they say?
Crowded Out
How Deafening
the sounds
Filling each
and every
Room. Occupied
with auditory
trespassers encrouching
upon me!
My ears--
distracted, humming
others nonsense
Crowds,
my Head.
A fat priest drives into Fr. McDonald's
His order, an act of contrition--
Hoping to spend his indulgences on hamburgers and
and pop;
Confessing nothing, he is forgiven
everything. As he eats
his heart out, crumbs fall
through the gaps in his teeth,
tumbling down to be imprisoned
in his unkempt, Yellow'd,
golden whiskers.