Death By Virtue

They say I’m made of carbon
Among other earthy elements
I breathe, therefore I am, it seems
Fire and water seep through the sediment

The afterglow of embers deep
Fanned by Venus as she weeps
Signifies my soul’s release
Death by Virtue slow and sweet

We lie beneath the willow tree
Your beauty steals my breath away
The incense of your skin, your hair, your sleeve
The moment spins in disarray

The afterglow of embers deep
Fanned by Venus as she weeps
Signifies my soul’s release
Death by Virtue slow and sweet

There is no sense or solace in goodbye
My essence shudders, refuses to concede
Magma rises, spilling from my eyes
Trust nor hope nor love stand guaranteed

The afterglow of embers deep
Fanned by Venus as she weeps
Signifies my soul’s release
Death by Virtue slow and sweet

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One Early Summer Eve

You alighted on my shoulder
One early summer eve
Butterfly of significance
Creature of motifs

Your court you held with open wings
Meeting my eye with ease
Butterfly of prerogative
Master of prestige

The moment lasted just long enough
Then you must be on your way
Butterfly of destiny
Ambassador of faraway

The lowly on the food chain
Journey a thousand miles
Butterfly of humility
Sister to the skies

Star Dust

I think that I am heart and soul
But I’m told I’m made of star dust
My essence formed of earthenware
The matter of ten billion years

Who compressed us in a little ball?
Then ignited with one breath –
All dreams, all futures – tiny dots
Dispatched with ne’er an afterthought

The same who promises to discard
The dark glass we view the world through
And the full extent of Majesty
Will descend on us like gravity

Yesterday

If yesterday knocked at my door
I wouldn’t miss a beat
But step right back into the past
And all my shadows greet

Who would chide me otherwise –
The elephant in the room?
Regret is your inheritance
That plagues you to your tomb

I’d rather lay my cards out
And – bound by certainty –
Retreat and chase the transient
Than ponder eternally

Inherit The Earth

We sidle up to greatness
Fame is a nom de plume
While the legions of lowly and nameless
Travel onward in ashen costumes

The garb of dreary simplicity
Somber hues of dry wood and dry hearth
A vast column of squalid humanity
Marches forward to inherit the earth

Blink once and the masses have gathered
Twice and the planet will sway
What you thought was forsaken and scattered
Rises up and seizes the day

The Good Samaritan

The song is simple and it rhymes
Two verses and you’re done
God and Neighbor, balance these
Black or white, blue or bright crimson

There is one caveat
A stumbling so they say
Your neighbor is your enemy
Ponder that on Judgement Day

The innkeeper will tell you
To his amazement and disbelief
The narrow path to eternal life –
Wear your heart upon your sleeve

Remember Me

I have seen angels hover around the dying
Bestowing graces galore
As the river passes the Elm of False Dreams
Hold fast your coin and your oar
Spit the entrance fee
Into the faces of Grief and Old Age
Float free from the binds of Agony
Before the concrete and the familiar fade –
Remember me, remember me
Stand on the shoreline
With your back against the deep
The lovely, dark, and deep
And remember me, remember me
Let go all promises, true loves and deeds
And when I follow
Remember me

Uncover

She is yar
Without a mast
Without a sail
No one can surpass her

Accouterments are out of style
Attire is a statement
The vestment of a thousand years
Shrouds the seeds of discontentment

The tunic is essential
Yet strangles and confines
The veil I have no need for
A vestige of patriarchal times

Servility is habit forming
Simplicity – the paradigm
How much is lost, how much is won
When I uncover and learn to climb

Imperfection

I’m not too young to misinterpret
Nor too old for stage direction
The world appears to me annoyed
At my slightest imperfection

The unfettered and the unsung
Conversate in whispers
They glide among the tallest trees
And drink from the big dipper

They keep no tally
But to note how early rise the sun
How many hours is the day
How many tales homespun

Who reaches down to touch the sky
Has no penchant to complain
Perfection is an afterthought
When dancing in the rain

I Thought I Saw Jim Croce

I thought I saw Jim Croce
Drive past me in a car
My double take and curious wonder
At the return of this fateful star

His path crossed mine –
He disappeared from sight
I contemplated the sadness and nuance
Of brilliant dreams extinguished in the limelight

Time and again I am reminded
Chided, cast down, disappointed –
Searching each box for the secret
Relegated only to the select and anointed

Eternity like memory is a message
Thrown out to sea in a bottle
Retrieved and released on the lips
Of time’s most renowned unfinished apostle