Just another manic dancer,
waking from your fevered hell;
Collapsed by waste
and sheer exhaustion,
tangled in your painted veil.
Weighted by your fears and phantoms-
a dingy caught without its sails,
far from shore u drift forgotten-
Many hands have reached to find you
(bromides bleed as if on cue)
Sage advice brings vagrant answers,
and senseless screams.
Though your wounds remain your prison-
they alone can set you free.
***dedicated to my brother Tim whom I love so much and who has a long, difficult road to travel-but, with Goddess grace and our help, he’ll be on his feet again soon..🙏🏼👸🏼👼🏼
Demagogues that preach by numbers-
patronized by mind’s illusions-
open doors become intrusions.
so bitter cold,
they crack your windows,
numb your soul.
And cryptic scripts do not explain
these bloated clouds that never rain.
Deprived of critical exposure
gospels false and foolish grow…
(yet questioned by a need to know).
Lacunas hide ‘neath painted plaster,
brick and mortar never mastered.
where stains have dried,
once filled with feeble,
Grace, humility reviled-
For they are God,
and God has died.
Hidden in their praise of others,
prickling, unrelenting envy.
these vehicles that go nowhere.
Continue on your pilgrim’s passage,
casting off the prophets lashings.
can poison palates,
kill your plants
and burn your houses.
Spinning flames that hypnotize-
these lies I cannot compromise,
and seeming pyres,
ground by boot,
are spurned to scattered ash