feast

bread and wine

be bread and wine
no words of mine

can tell the truth
rain-pearls roll down
round dome of roof

while prayer-incense
fills hall-room air
pain broken bread

is broken flesh
of bells struck twice
and silence spreads;

no words of mine
can tell of grace
lost wells in tears

lost wells in space
and cry for peace
'mong thoughts of old

fields young and smooth
feels long ago
fields autumn gold;

bread and wine
be bread and wine
as I am yours:

so you be mine.

Βύβλος

seeking scraps of wisdom I
was instead fed on hope of
angels, crying: "strangers,
welcome us in your abode!"

a matter of life and death

when my mind goes blank i pray

that God fills the gaps between decayed
strands of thought and hope
and takes me to the land forgot,

where good exists and web unweaved
we find each other as we're meant to be
with struggles given meaning that indeed:
we weren't just a nihilistic dream.

fire

the solitude of letting go

of years of work of being let go

of package given be on your way

deepest needs of purpose work;

and so it ends and he retires

and substitute of bubble echo chamber net

and screens and screams of news and war;

and you, whom i told: i hurt you too,

hangs loose i nearly let you go

the firing you volunteered for

money runs dry and so goodwill

i hate to speak in code yet i did

our eyes locked you understood and

gave a sigh; and you let the matter go;

let the matter go

return

stars, be bright, and tell your kin:
we tried so hard to flee from sin,
but treasure troves of goods we stole
was lost, was free, we can't recall
the thrill of taking what wasn't ours
crystallized our very souls
transfixed we stood then looked above
and saw that we have wronged our love;
go, hurry, and tell your kin:
save us from our sin.

Binsey hope

in friendship, moments lost are healed;

stones surge, bend and arch

so morning sun can shine

through kaleidoscope of glass;

even dust inside says: silence,

He will come again like stars.

stings

you put us here to doubt in you;
in cold atlantic breath
you put on this earth.

the weight of this --
miles of ocean air above --
crushes me.

what fool I am who can't make sense
of shame of doings
and shame of nothingness.

like lesson in school endlessly repeated,
I still don't understand what the message is,
and what I should do with myself.

first home

time waits for no one,
but i wait for you, in time:
-- lush memories of youth
taking and developing photos,
film-based, and digital photo booth --
I wait for you in time,

on cobbled British streets;
eternal rain, eternal sunshine

the invisible elect

give hope to all:
to all who've lost
false gods be false
whether they take
to victory or not;

but people -- be they shivering
while stand by side of road
ask change in plastic cup
who knows from where they came
and where they will end up;

or be they at home

in front of screen

brought low

by years of work

and happening to find

some precious truth that

they never wanted to let go,

with fear they fear

will be taken away; and more -- 

people, will always be

flesh and bone;

flesh and bone:

give hope to all.

awake

in large looming clouds gray you smiled in my dreams and betrayed;

in dreams all is me and I, the victim

bitter tasted in heart and mouth and soul to I,

the betrayer

buying fools for gold and gold for fools

and unfaithful to me and I and you

and the whole world, to lessen the load;

only him, to whom it is silly and superstitious to draw thoughts from well of hope

only him, to samaritan and I and the whole world -- to lessen the load -- can help

need

like a chirping bird that asks for father

so I long for every word from you to eat

silver

on silver plate I see sliver of truth
delivered scales slithered so smooth
reflection caused he gave me pensive look
my friends and foes for enemies I took

rhubarb

morning sun shines through streaks of drops on slanted window.

rhubarb from aphex twin plays and I wonder:

instead of talk of digital twins

how about spiritual twins;

(that do not mimic but complete)

how about: God is trying to call but we never pick up

or never know what we’re picking up;

maybe pain can be beautiful if we know where it should lead

maybe the helplessness we see around us, the decay into old age of loved ones

will not be the last word, and there is something beyond the cross

of meaningless suffering.

live from tone to tone

wash tone sea saw
wash crisp blend slow
bounce raw sheet draw
wave foam: release? slow

Compromat

Swiftly does the flesh retire
To chambers new and soft;

Boldly die the lives of others,

Baldly dye the lies of others,

On tomes of good and bad;

So radio hosts of talking hate

Can rot the brains of

People called for more.

Sad the sin of waste:

Wasted knowledge,

Wasted resources,

Wasted opportunities,

Wasted nature, and

Wasted apologies.

Wasted wisdom,

And, worse than pride:
Lazy, comfortable hate.

This is what our nation,
This is what I
Was capable of. 

Kingdom

Most powerful is He who

Consoles the grief stricken

With truth and healing;

Not ones who cause the suffering,

Here today, and gone tomorrow;

It is for heroes everyday

To get up each morning,

Pick up broken remains,

And stubbornly live in it: salvation.

Dwelling

(The whole world is an hermitage, and we the lonesome dwellers.)

It's never good to be an erm-it
And find your thoughts get more and more unhinged.
When anything is possible, nothing true is possible

The dots all join to form a perfect storm
And imagination wild is the limit
Of what apparations are found.

Or, with clear rules to be always straight
And start again when you have failed
You've built your own prison cell.

But what if hermit wants to meet?
But no one wants to meet him, not on his deluded terms?
What then?

Max Sustain

At an intergalactic feast table in Valhalla.

Conversation between two organ grinders.

ORGAN GRINDER 1:

When all is gone, in a sigh, and

Science tells you all the while

The how ^ n but not the why --

What will you reply?

ORGAN GRINDER 2:

I am safe, I exist, in

Fleeting-mind protagonist

Of Story worth some proper Verse

Of Son gifted a Universe.

ORGAN GRINDER 1:

Do not get your hopes up, son

You'll be puff 'fore day is done

Never breath of fire so fine

But your life, son, is on the line.

ORGAN GRINDER 2:

Like tightrope walker I see depth

Of darkness calling to my death

But in that darkness I'll see light

If it consumes me, it's His right.

Eve

I feel the road ahead is tough

And fear of fear is not enough,

The vultures are all looking down

My shaking corpse their feeding ground.

Words blow through like hollow reed

Nothing sticks and nothing feels,

Rivers, meaning, dry like bone

Core fed, cortex left alone.

Here in wastelands, in the dark

Night of the soul wanders aghast,

If ever will there be a smile

Clutch loosened even for a while...

From awful sights torments expressed

On solid days of nothingness:

Oh, that hood raw power indulge taste

Were lifted! kind forgiving grace.

Zoo of Malfeasance

Baby eels and butterflies

Hide shady deals and utter lies.

Teach us

They taught us well   —- we grew to love

They’ve grown old and —- are leaving us

We’d rather not       —- inherit Earth

But seek to find      —- a true rebirth.