i am the golden hero
fighting
slaying men
deep, where the battle rages

in the pale winter field
warriors die all around me

your blue eyes shine
in the green waters
they are watching
they are the eyes of mercy

i am the wayfarer
i rule dark shining towers
where the dead kings
rest in sleeps of peace
their souls
carried by my golden eagles
beyond the seven heavens

how many men have died
and what was it all for
the golden crown
the purple robe
when these things
are just
secrets of you and i
secrets of the body
to be found within

the Indians know
of my golden crown
the violet that dwells within me
the jewelled golden seat
the golden sceptre
of sapphire and crimson ruby.                    
but all these things
are secrets of you and i

they will be lost in time

secrets of the body
secrets nobody knows

the first spark sparks

in the wastes of Shabsheer
his bread and water, that of niter
where he would spend nights here
worked as dawn neared

his flame soon to burn a million
harshness and saltpeter
his nickname was 'Paidarion'
his future more bitter

ⲇⲉⲁⲑ took a paid lover
and soon, mother and father
no home, no lamp for his feet

as the Egyptian sun began to blister
under the shade of one's beard
he sought an elder

"watch- for you are awake
you are seeing
you are knowing

watch- the baker as he bakes
the thieves fleeing
and the farmer sowing

"starve- we'll eat later
now we ponder
the hunger of  the beggar

the next we pass one
dont let him wonder
invite him to share our supper

"know to rise above
and to go under
to pass through-
and asunder

for He weaves
our lives together
we hold each other

in the pattern of our souls

He weaves us together
that we may hold one another
from the cradle to the casket

humanity woven well
holds on to much more
like a good basket

Who are you?

I am not a vessel;
woman, poet, coloured,
they are only covers.

Who are you?

I am not any of those titles.
You force me to knit a name
from parts of worn clothes
to avoid your own face
in the mirror.

Who are you?

The love in your veins.
The liquour of life -
like water I mold
into shapes, but
I am without form.

Who are you?

You.
A soul.

how can i afford the cure?
the cure is my disease
how can i speak with words still pure?
my doctor poisons me
yet will i laud
and make it
soft
the words of the wise
are plainly lost

the angel called out to me
Recite!
But I said,
"what will I recite with these unclean lips? "

So the angel ripped my larynx
out of my throat
and set it on fire
until it burned to ashes

then I began to recite

hell is not hot
if you think it is, it’s just because you haven’t been there
hell is like cool drink of water
but it gets under your skin
gets right where it hurts the most
understands your weaknesses
anticipates your failures
its always there waiting
crouching
silent

hell is not
anything you would expect
because the glory of hell
is to give the unexpected

On a world with no moon I pondered deeply on a starless night
Wondering what happened when the sun fell silent with the light
And yet the black sky told no story, no star-man seen with belt alight
Orion quiet as the darkness still, unthought, unformed

Not because of clouds or want of sight was my world formed in darkness
But because the sun had gone and was the only light
The nearest star was just too far, and so to me had never been
Like I must be to it as if it were I wasn't born

All the light I knew this night was fire; fire was my own
Nothing out beyond myself had gave this fire or had shown
One sign of having helped me strike the tinder into flame
I didn't even know it "fire", knew it by no name

On a world with no moon, no stars, no clouds, no name
I forgot there was a sun
but it was all the same

I woke up
opened my eyes
i was alone

and then, just as quickly as the terror had come and passed
the moment was so beautiful that i refused to capture it

Jesus christ
save my soul. Jesus christ, make me whole

the turbulence reached for me
but i was beyond it then
i'd sought for the Spirit
a different spirit came and went
i'm still looking
still looking

but even the inadequacy of words is muted
right now
we are living in different worlds
not only from one another, but particularly from ourselves
the pride of life courses through the brokenness of language
wanting, however, the Spirit of Truth

but i am looking
we are all looking

and just when i'd thought i was barren, She did come again
even in the mess i was in
like a baby, lying in a manger
I woke up
opened my eyes
I was home

renaissance
San Francisco, a whisper in the wind tonight
tells of rebirth
not Beat
or beaten down
not beatific simply being

it is whispered that soon
we will all see our visions and dream our dreams
amidst the microchip mindbending screams
can you really, really believe?

The true dawn begins tonight
at which I woke, and was alight
and the wind rushed through me like
the rustle of dead leaves

San Francisco, I never knew
you but I hear of your deeds of renunciation and renown
they have echoed across time and space like starlight
that is evergreen

I have seen, I see, I will continue to see
me in you
you in me
I was born
not anachronistically
but just in time
just in time