the poet

Life thins her
tearing across her skin,
shreds of being
trickling down down
like rivulets of blood
that never cease to flow.

Time wears her
bears down upon her,
bending her over,
molding, forcing her on
with merciless intent,
or without purpose at all.

Man abuses her
refuses her voice,
rejects the veracity
of her very being
while craven crawling
between her taut thighs.

And she?

She sings her!
She rises and rages and
whispers a wondrous vision
that none can deny,
so vibrant and whole
despite the scars.

Or perhaps
because of them.



I am so weary of the pain,
exhausted by the all too
evident progress of decay
that encompasses this
bitterly physical life.

The very sensual being
that I had once reveled in
has betrayed me, left me
to rot on jagged angry
and most sullied stones.

There are nights when
cringing in injury
I crawl into bed and beg
the gods for something
like a decent rest.

They laugh at me,
but then of course they do,
so true is the course of life
that pleasure must inevitably
give way to the inescapable.

I close my eyes and breathe,
and breathe again, listening
to patterns of pathetic
failure, organic structures
struggling to find peace.


there are certainly moments
when you just know
just absolutely know
the reason

such transparent moments
may be painfully rare
but they do exist
they must

i sit here now and shiver
imploring this flesh
for a moment
without pain

imploring the distant moon
to clarify this lunacy
and assuage my soul
with peace

i struggle with the words
to express this needful me
pondering purpose
and plans

despising ever this distance
i doubtless acknowledge
mortality and meaning
and this:

that i do love you so
and that in striving
to better this me
there is

no finer reason

than you

Salt Lake City 15 Jan 2013


do you hear yourself
how your voice echoes
through closed doors
and thickly stuccoed walls
and proudly pagan flesh
aching particles of hope
and sensual suffering
so unbearably intimate
as to precisely pierce
with poignant accuracy
a naïve lover’s heart
like an arrow sharpened
by divine Diana herself
still furious at Acteon’s
unfortunate vision

Salt Lake City 29 Dec 2012

pain and hope

this flesh so leathery seeks my soul to define
these pains cringing me, collapsing my laughter
fearfully i grasp at cushions soaked in sweat
as the next wave of agony crashes through me

incessant sobbing becomes a welcomed release
a reminder that this assault on my inner being
had a beginning and must necessarily reach an end
otherwise what point could perpetuate this life

minutes accumulate into hours stretched tight
as fetally i companion the night craving the glow
of dawn, harbinger of a day without suffering
a day when i might reject the taunts of this flesh

and define my soul
by the finer lines
and gentler embrace
of love’s infinite hope

Salt Lake City 14 Sep 2012