motionless bog walker

My feet in the muck,
lifting will either suck me
in or set me free.

my rhythm

As time unwinds and
stretches itself in backward
arches, just as the

edges of a wave
reach and whisper up the sand-
cool, wet, immersive-

and slip back down to
the ocean, helpless against
gravity's pulling...

so does my mind reach.
So do written words drag me,
back into the sea.


(written 15 May 2006)

polyamatory haiku

Long have I suffered
antinomian heartache
under rule of men.

The creed that claims an
ownership of heart and soul:
"Follow god, wear gold."

Yet aren't we able,
in our burning, unchained minds,
to love without law?

Forgo those stale creeds!
Sing your songs with abandon,
and howl at the moon.

Reach out from your tree.
Come away with me and drift,
embers in the air.

We'll live as outlaws-
adoring the ones we find.
Without gods. No gold.


(written 05 November 2006)

an obsession with meter

It all boils down to
an obsession with meter
(direction for thoughts).