Without End

 

Upon Color he chanced
In thirteenth year of sightless sojourn.
A brook, boundless in Blue, knelt before him,
Nevermore would it know the wor(l)d alone.
Together they traveled, ever westwards,
Ever swiftly, ever outracing
That trimmed-in-gold prophet.
Untold horizons they fashioned,
Lest reckless they topple
off creation still-edgebound. First mountain
they freed, whispered to stone
the seven shades of a secret.
They wait yet today
In a cave marked by no map,
Asking only for a color untold.

The Simplicity of Confession

 

Her breath they buried
Within the lyrics of their church.
Her laughter they swept
Away into lightless’d corners
Gilded with shame, silvered sound
Painted red—but spoken blue,
Like the crooked curves
Between their teeth. For whom
Do you lie? The goliaths have gone
Back to their fathers. Only You remain—
And lessons yet unlearned. Let us
Then begin: The murder of a word
Takes only two: a little ima-gination
And the ecstasy of silence.

 

The First Idiot

 

He was born full-formed, clad from first in cunning’s counterfeit.
No house would he know, no crypt could he claim,
Destined unto death and beyond
To chart uncoursed Neptune’s eternal glass.
Two gifts he was given:
A compass distrusting of direction,
A blade suspicious of slaughter.

So he sailed, starstiched from port-to-port,
Minotaur’s mirror for labyrinth’d kingdoms and crowns.
He discovered the word “wit”,
Struck down its rightful mistress.
He pilfered the caducean staff,
Resurrected within himself virtuous vice.
And when immortal sport spoke no more,
An island he built in self-image,
Stepping-stones disabused of picaresque intention.

Peripheral Primitive

 

Along shores of December’d song he voyaged,
Winterbound to house named Home no longer.
The first of four rooms He discovered
(In dream):
Immemorial passage black-walled, black-doored.
A chest it held with heart within—
But keyless its creator, lockless its liberator.
Into the second of four rooms He toppled
(In trance):
Sylvan circus dappled by dismembered masque.
Enchantressed shadows it held—
Shifting boldly from lines to limb.
They spoke to him, graved in sky his crime.
Upon the third of four rooms He stumbled
(In silence, solemn):
Dome unbound, unchartered, woven in cosmic dissolution.
Great beasts it held: earliest and unborne, caged
By starkissed sorrow. Amongst them he strode,
Unchallenged David, long-live’d David, fourth-forgotten David.

 

Inspired by Man and his Symbols, pg. 40

 

 

Erasure

 

Sleep a month longer, Jin-dynastied sun;
Too eager you rise to sign Unfounding’s breath.
Carcass-gifted comes greeting but calamitous cause remains unspoken?
Enlighten then your parapeted subjects,
Sixty-thousand they stand, shawled in suicide’s white:
Where erred veneration, when fell estival’d celebration?
The horse’d horde at our gates know not love, never will:
Their language lacks the word.
At those barbarous hands are we to be skull-split,
Rent from family and form, rent for silver and sex?
False prophet! It cannot be! And so:
Your claims I disavow, your shapes I abnegate.
To my disciples I say only “jump”;
Adopt, in final moment, the butterfly’s art.