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POETRY LINKS
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Untitled Sonnet #44
From my fluted access I shimmied deep, Right through the dark soot emerging cleanly. Looming on the perch, time passed at a creep, Creep, creep, creeping slowly and so keenly. One foot on the shroom head and the other Planted firmly in the ground and rooted. Sprouting a leaf then swiftly another; Green forests! Stuck not to be uprooted. Scented years passed, long into memory, Ancient I became: massive and so tall! Sprawling wide delving into debauchery Mating so marked by a bee’s humming call: Hum drum as I grow older and spread on, With great giant rooted steps: now long gone!
Untitled Sonnet #45
With great giant rooted steps: now long gone; Gone and faded into the misted eyes. Atop the world, amid the shifting clouds Tangled within the high sapphire skies. Skies, yes skies pierced by wild emerald stakes! Each sway, every swing touches an iron heart; Branding the soul while removing heartaches. Dredging within purifying each part; Ripped from the world of pain and ugly strife, Torn free of the heavy harness of guilt! Buried in the soil of eternal life, Held secure in the stone shelter now built. Built beneath the shaded grass and the stone Forged from the small seedling wildly thrown.
Untitled Sonnet #46
Forging from the small seedling wildly thrown Is my kingdom, my epic oak now lost. My tunnel into the deep now unknown! Why did this fail, why, why the massive cost; Tragedy! Oh, diversion of old dreams Cast aside; tossed away into the night. When all is so lost, with no gains it seems; When the night shrivels up against its might Tremble and cower! For the end comes now. Shrooms do tower above, blunting the sky With every ounce of perfection. I vow, Swear, promise, predict to endlessly try! Spreading darkened wings of the holocaust, Bearing to the ground the dear dreams it cost!
Untitled Sonnet #47
Bearing to the ground the dear dreams it cost; Dropped into the darker mists hanging low. Beholding the damp darkness, stumbling around lost Unable to stand, fight or strike a blow! Great clumps of lumped grass remain tight in hand, Sobbed tears rained down striking the earthen Land; draining into ethereal sand! Glancing up, the blood fell from the heathen Sacrifices in the ghostly night skies. Shrooms welled up, spilled out and began to grow, Amid the rain of cerise tears and cries! Bleeding, resting, praying beneath a glow; Laying softly to rest, buried in mushrooms; Waiting calmly in the warmth of the womb.
Untitled Sonnet #48
Waiting calmly in the warmth of the womb, Watching each blade of grass rise with the sun, Drifting away, away, away; then boom! Sudden rush, torrents twisting down; undone. Onyx claws tear through the earth’s solid ground, Ripping the stone and soil, clawing through! Out of the eggshell with tremendous sound, A wyrm: sign perfection among the few. Tucking into a fetal ball; trembling, Remaining unmoved, clinging to the grass. Only to be soothed by the beasts singing: An anthem which no angle can surpass. From the seed to the tree to the small end, From shrooms to the long forsaken Godsend!
Untitled Sonnet #49
From shrooms to the long forsaken Godsend, Who has arisen from the eggshell of This begotten earth! Dropping to transcend, Drop, fall, drop, fall, falling grasping the dove! Soaring round the Wyrm of the ancient days, Who erupted from the soil of the ground, I see beauty, form perfected. I gaze. Longing for its power, feeling it pound. Rumbling in my chest, banging its rhythm, Marching its shape across my memory. Weaving flutes now dance about its anthem, Taking all away; branding destiny! Drifting higher on currents with my dove, Who looms nearer of that which I am of.
Untitled Sonnet #50
Who looms nearer of that which I am of? The dove or the dragon of the earths egg; Born of this hate or born of passion’s love? Stuck fast to the ground, forever to beg, Plead or cry to the gods of the Dragons! Reflective teeth bore down on me quickly, Smirking as if I were the lone pagan. Though rooted I am so delicately. A shiver, a ting at the lower neck, Sends me staggering back trapped deep within. For the song struck so deep leaving a wreck, Mess, yes! A mess, an evident lone sin! The hum drum follows me here in the heat Of the night and moment so dear and sweet.
Untitled Sonnet #51
Of the night and moment so dear and sweet; Of this I was robbed of, stolen, taken! Oh, alas the hum-drum that did repeat; But the tree, the, the: was I mistaken? Clearly I recall the dragon’s lone song! The proud anthem after the fresh breaking Of the soil of the earth once so strong; What silence, no wait, I am hear something. But, the rooting tree, the seed the old shrooms, My leaves, my sky, the emerald green spikes? As I roll over I see empty rooms, Empty spaces as the alarm bell strikes.
Hum
drum droning waking me from my sleep;
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