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He spits on the face of the gods;
And still they sing his songs
Our stories; tears and hurt,
Are fodder for his craft.
What we whisper in shame,
He sings his way to fame.
Many men are born,
But forgotten once...

I have robbed the garrulous streets,
Thieved a fair girl from their blight,
I have stolen her for a sacrifice
That I shall make to this night.

I have brought her, laughing,
To my quietly dreaming garden.
For what will be...

Squares, circles, and stars
invite me to play.
Lines, curves, and squiggles
show me the way.
Letters, numbers, and signs
never suffice to say
that you mean the world to me,
more than the light of day.

Transmute; she said
Is when one thing becomes another,
A stranger to a friend
Or a man to a father
Evening to night and so on;
Hence, I understood,
That nature moves in gradual steps
And one thing becomes the...

Sultry heat
A tad bit softened
But concrete is still burning
With rays of summer
Trees are getting ready
For autumn
A radical discoloration
A jaw-dropping
Transformation
That would leave
The...

I have brought the sacrificial goat
To the heap of grass, leaves and bark

He has forgotten his last beheading
But round his neck garland-like
hangs a mark

There are too many kids in this tub
There are too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There are too many kids in this tub.

When the storm gathers
And the sun is hidden from view
With cold piercing winds –
And dark omnibus shadows:
Mothers rush to take the babes in
The chickens, the goat and all
Sensible creatures take cover
As the clouds...

He was a mountain,
A lion; but to us
A tuft of wool

He’d thrust me up
Like a flightless bird
Back to him I fell
Taught me kindness and pride
In the works of one’s hand

He knew when to lift me up
When to...

Ecstatic bird songs pound
the hollow vastness of the sky
with metallic clinkings—
beating color up into it
at a far edge,—beating it, beating it
with rising, triumphant ardor,—
stirring it into warmth,
quickening in it a spreading...
        

I do not rise each day to fight,
but to remember I was never lost.
Not broken,
Not forgotten,
Just hidden behind the noise.

There is no bell to ring,
no altar to kneel at—
only the hush between heartbeats
that...

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.