3 at random

Waiting

What has the chrysalis gift kept,
During your burning transformation,
For hourglass turns titanic tears wept,
A gift to mortals Lacking information,

As far as controlling time’s lord,
As hours thunderbolt speed progress,
The travels cost you can’t afford,
Or it’s effect repress,

If I could travel the clock’s path,
And through the hours of time retrace,
I would changed the cold equations math,
And lose myself in her clock’s face,

But if all you do is wait,
And sit staring at the clock,
Time travels perceived a slower state,
Like Prometheus chained to his rock,

So will come that eagle,
To feast on your titanic liver,
Feel blessed for the gift of fire regal,
And at one o’clock deliver.


Dreams

In Morpheus realm we oft conceive,
Of unicorns, trolls, and faerie wood,
Our minds control what we achieve,
Our dreams language understood,

So we dream of a time for off,
Where the days seem less tragic,
Our daydreams lead others to scoff,
Dreams have their own magic,

You’ll find them in the sleeping world,
Slaying monsters of highest peak,
Sailing flying ships sail unfurled,
When all you must do is life’s incantation speak,

SO when a guest in his realm sleeping,
And to our old fantasies regress,
Our own future is spent reaping ,
A challenge a victory in progress,


I want a quatrain berating the Chinatown bus, equating it with a greedy and unpredictable cat. Or dragon. Which in chinese ideology is almost the same thing.


Chinatown Dragon

When traveling downtown it is a pity,
To play with this cat with pet and tickle,
We chose to live in this draconic city,
And mass transit is so damn fickle,

About this bus you have many a slur,
And wish you had a scotch filled flagon,
To wait and ride this inconsiderate cur,
Somewhere between cat and dragon,

It all depends on the birthing year,
To whether this bus will roar or pur,
Just get the mechanical toy in gear,
Or withstand the blur of fangs, scale or fur,

At times all you wish to do is go,
And get to where you want to be,
Yet as victim to feline felon ego,
Your patience pays the fee,

As for waiting the pain inflict,
As it in your laps it’ll cuddle,
This vehicular cretin too hard too predict,
And it’s logic befuddle,

But the zen patience grows,
It is the devil of the deed,
Anyone who takes the MTA knows,
Like all dragons is lives for greed,

ballad of the ugly hero

A knight fine of face and eye, will sour,
When on face more than self rely,
His courage will fail, lacking in darkest hour,
Not having what the scars of ugly heroes imply,

Although Roxanne was in Christian’s power,
And old DeBergerac hated his nose,
She fell to a poet’s power,
And they live forever in prose,

And for Belle trapped in a tower,
The beast’s regret what he chose,
With feral roar made Gaston cower,
All for the stinging price of a rose,

So are you up for the task,
When a broken nose or cheek you trace,
Sheeps clothing, skin deep runs the mask,
When you divine courage in a mere face,

So let bard rhyme and heralds shout,
Of All the beauty aesthetic,
It’s the pretty one’s that pout,
And ask for anesthetic,

So gather round this table,
And drink your fill of mead,
The ugly heroes you find were able,
Although our tales you’ll never read,

For in our broken bodies and scars,
Is the vellum our tale is writ,
And our deeds are remembered by the stars,
More than some good looking twit.

So listen and share a drink,
Perhaps a kiss and maybe a verse,
See a poet’s soul in my pirate eyes and think,
A broken face is not such a curse,

Librarians

Librarians

Eyes, horn rim shielded behind glass,
Noses buried in ancient pages,
None can the attraction surpass,
Or our beauteous bibliographic sages,

For it is in the mystery, of the unopened tome,
And the wisdom and enclosed delight,
But no librarian ever mistook even by poem,
The average man still knuckle dragging troglodyte,

Pale in skin untouched by sun,
They in deeper secrets delve,
Hair tied up in tidy bun,
But their passions they do not shelve

So they “Shhh” you when they hear a racket,
Or ask if these books overdue,
It’s the book and not the dust jacket,
That makes the attraction ensue,

When the critical moments invade,
And facing the music deafens the ear,
It’s blow for blow you trade,
The last moments of the cavalier,

Absence all the human feeling,
In the fury of blood and flesh,
Shock sets in senses appealing,
The battle bathes and in crimson refresh,

When it comes to that day,
When at last pride and strength become coy,
All the battle ghosts come to repay,
Long life blessed yet cursed in combative joy,

SO in crescendo the music plays,
And drum beats stir the heart and soul,
The dance ends and to the band one pays,
The price of old Charon’s toll.

On the other side of that river,
Then again I’ll see her face,
For love in time will deliver,
What the world tries to erase,

Regret never the decisions made,
You have attained what you have sought,
Though the memory of you like ink will fade,
So few have had stood, loved, and fought,

Oftimes when we are comment sharing,
In darkest or brightest hour,
We find our hearts in chains and caring,
Lost in exchanges of power,

When engaged in ones own consumption,
Of the heart and need to thrive,
We sometimes forget the given assumption,
The gratis gifts of care survive,


To some you must rely,
The care and it’s twin elation,
For some minds cannot justify,
Care for it’s own sake and education,

So expect the wince of pain regret,
The ungrateful who give short shrift,
For the few that on burden set,
Love the few who recognize the gift,

Alchemy – Go Apothecary get thyself in flesh

The hellish, divine, toxic alchemy,
Enticing sufficing poisonous taste,
Lays is quivering healing testimony,
Of small doses eventual immunity waste,

So to concoct this feverous notion,
Or do it for love or lusts sake,
Too much of key ingredient potion,
The bitter taste of salacious mandrake,

So with apparatus we give it heat,
Let it boil then slowly cool,
To make this liquor taste as sweet,
The imbibing that makes beggar and king fool,

Whether elixier makes us change form,
Gives us strength, invisibility, or sight,
True magic lies in the tempestuous storm,
Of two loves and one unyielding night,

valentine's epitaph - a request

Valentine’s Epitaph

In the struggle of indentity,
A poor player of many faces and masks ,
In cutting out the conviction guilty,
And venture forward to greater tasks,

There is love will test mettle,
Swept of their feet by separation,
Drawn and thrown ass over tea kettle,
Never demanding reparation,

But I have loved deeper and stronger,
Then few will ever know,
Tis pity it didn’t last longer,
Is died with no chance to grow,

Rapid pulse and darting eyes,
Moments sweet of flesh interrogation,
Hard enough to remember lies,
When honesty bathes and sleeps with negation,

SO finding is what was sought,
It became my preoccupation,
The worst thing they regret is getting caught,
And sincerity an welcome imitation.

So I listen and think tenderly,
And smile at their folly in youth,
Better a lie that exalts all humanity,
Than a thousand fold of truth,

Sewn into my heart so cold,
To dwell in her kiss so divine,
One forgives much when they are old,
And accepts the fate of Valentine,

So young loves married against parental wishes,
Caused the old church much dread,
To believe in miracles of loaves and fishes,
But loves magic cause poor Valentine his head.

The curse

As immutable as nature’s forces,
Love and letters blade and verse,
Igniting the blood in it’s courses,
The madness of love’s curse,

Knowing you may be heartbroken,
Losing her in this verbal maze,
Interwoven with flesh unspoken,
And the finality of blood’s blaze,

But this curse in not an epithet,
Or slander or swirling swindling tongue,
For in those lips more appetite is whet,
Upon all hopes this fixture is hung,

SO pass off this burden of heart encumbered,
Be it nightingale or the lark,
Sadly all love’s days are numbered,
When you mistake the ember for the spark,

older poetry

http://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0Aav33I7XCVE5ZGQ4OG1tcDlfMjM0Zzd0eDlqZjc&hl=en

was feeling very EA Poe

The tipping point

In private and secret moments,
And memory’s havoc goes full force,
Gentler times of sweet kiss torments,
And this love like contagion runs it’s course,

So in the heat, of that recollection,
In the sickly sweet summer of regret ,
You add it to the collection,
Of the breathy days and salt sweat,

So in kind worship curves remember,
The taste of lip the gleam in the eye bright,
And each word spoken dismember,
To find the cause of her flight,

For these hands once held beauty,
And lay enraptured in loving song,
But them regrettably comes the duty,
To archive them where they belong,

For my love, now sleeps
In the cold unforgiving ground,
Deaths evil sickle reaps,
And hears only the dirge’s sound,

But there is another time and place,
Where our eyes will meet,
For that day I heighten the pace,
And in love’s eternity death defeat,

The Caffeine Beast, a request

The Caffeine Beast

When times in early morning hours obscene,
In desperate dash to press the button of snooze,
We stalk mightily the beast of Caffeinine,
Or in the battle with sandman we’ll lose,

Tying on some work attire or suit,
Looking for bus or subway metro card,
Surviving the most dreaded commute,
When Starbucks ends in the longest yard.

Seeing through sleep deprived eyes hazy,
In pursuit of this curious beast,
Sugar, and milk, avarice drives crazy,
To jolt us in our caffinated feast,

So watch it snarl for what do we know,
Of the nature of it’s pride what can we say,
Slurp down a spiced cappacino,
Or some fruity latte,

Soon blood pumps in superior vena cava,
And mind sluggishly toporic awakes,
“ Just give me a fricking cup of Java.”
Cause that’s about all it takes.

wanderlust

Wanderlust

Long dwelled I on the gypsy road,
I follow the winds and the rain,
All for the tales to be told,
Price for wisdom of sweet pain,

Wandering what the truth may be,
And traveling for so long ,
Just the keep myself free,
A life worthy of song,

A cold glance a casual smile,
I stopped wondering why,
For we are only on this rock awhile,
So few ever really try,

To see the stars in desert sky,
And moon dancing on mercuric river,
Too many sit, sigh, and cry,
Waiting for some miracle to deliver,

I roamed forests primeval,
And dueled with poets, knights, and masters,
Lived the codes medieval,
Survived my share of disasters,

So by the fire I sit,
Telling tales of adventure, love and rhyme.
Carved a life of blade and wit,
And had a hell of a time,

So warm yourself, I share my fire,
Words are free of currency cost,
For words are not all my desire,
And not all wanderers are lost.

torn - a request

Topic: When you meet someone you know you would have loved to spend your life
with, while being with someone you already love and could never leave. You live
torn between two worlds in silent agony, loving two people.



Torn


Of all the costumes I have worn,
And masks of skin eye and paint,
The character and the actor seems torn,
When the division taint,

For I will stay with this one I treasure,
For all the rest of my days ,
But there is the other I measure ,
That this outer garment displays ,

Hip, leg, arms, chest and neck incremental,
The tape finds the distance fine,
You know the other is instrumental ,
But the prime even two is not in the design,

With seem and seam there is incest,
Fabric torn, locks shorn, yet true love redeems,
The one loved first in on soul impressed,
The agony of being torn at the seams,

hope and passion

Hope

Tales of love be in rhyme or fable,
I’ll write as best as my poor pen allow,
To reaffirm the belief as best as I am able,
When facts to belief disavow,

Always far from optimistic,
But always small hope gleaming,
Writing poems meaning cryptic,
Find in hope virtue redeeming,

When Pandora opened that little box vile,
And spread the heartache through the earth,
A tiny angel looked up to her with a smile,
Hope in life shows her worth,

For in that little angel’s face,
It gives the strength to go on,
And perhaps in belief the facts replace,
As fables forever begin with once upon,




passion, the sacred fire,
all is possession and release,
unquechable is the desire,
forget the need surcease,

as in these things most proud,
and in dealing most primal close,
sheeps clothing belies the howl aloud,
thoughts not lingering on whim morose

of all those feeling I know not to trust,
when in decision judment clouded,
I find in possession lust,
when without it my thoughts too crowded,


so let it pull with blooded hook,
to the direction it reels,
rather to have a direction mistook,
than deny what one feels.

cthulu poem

Cthulu

In vistas dark and landscapes spectacular,
Ancient malevolence dead and yet dreaming,
Slithering masses with visage tentacular,
Strange aeons keep silent the screaming,

Whether races fungi or Ophidian,
Giant gugs or slavering ghouls,
Polished glass reveals math non Euclidian,
To take on gods is the realm of fools,

Ancient names cannot be spoken,
Dusty scrolls their words unknown,
When the old ones once awoken,
The madman’s wisdom is then shown,

So when the shadows beckon hither,
Reading lovecraft tis best at night,
That noises in walls sounds like slither.
When the black seas of infinity meet your sight,

so much for forever - from the new play

I guess only fools think on next lives and things eternal. SO much for forever.

The rat in the skulls takes so many memories away and taints them. So much for forever.

the curse of being forgotten sometimes can drive a man mad. It's just the lack of common human courtesy and caring that oftimes stings the most. The stories need sharing to a kind ear. So much for forever.

I am currently looking for work and have let it be known that I am back. I just find it interesting that many of those I have saved, haven't even bothered to ask if I am happy or even alive. The hiatus from heroism is definately a good idea. Not spending my mind on anger, bitterness or regret. I'm just getting detached from the disappointment. SO much for forever.

just can be problematic with with keeping everyone's secrets, if I get cast as the villain I might as well be the villain. And wreak a little havoc with a bit of extortion. So much for forever

I've worked for my share of thieves, loved my share of liars, so much for forever

some requests

I need something dark and dangerous; lust than turned to love that turned to vengeance!"

When inwards passions twist to hate,
As many silver tounged little knives ,
Let and keep them anticipate ,
As is most pain expectation has wives,

Hearts beating, will defeating a life in a kiss,
Lost in eyes you thought could never lie,
You know now the definition was not amiss,
In each little death you die ,

Time then spent concocting a plot ,
To regain what you know you cannot trust,
Their possessive greed for you forgot,
Once eternal truths now left to rust,

You check the hearts vacant cavity,
When once you pledged it with love and swagger,
Black thoughts turn to depravity ,
With justice the tip of a dagger,





"the bitterness of the human spirit when it is finally broken upon the backs of those who betray it!"

It will creep upon those with dismay,
When you wish sad, sick, soft quietus,
From memories gifted deceivers betray,
Wondering why I take heroic hiatus,

True and reality you know they won’t hear it,
For facts are stubborn things,
They seeks to dismantle your spirit ,
Crash to the rocks whilst siren sings,


It is only to their options they are loyal,
A hard truth yet oft in hope forgotten,
Bastards say, treat queen as whore and whore royal,
For misspent faith on love misbegotten,

Let canine wrath howl in it’s pain,
Let feline jelousy spew it’s litter,
Lick your wounds and covet the rain,
For gods tears make your tears less bitter,





"immortality of Gods long past; their regrets and their passions!"


taste ambrosia or golden apples eat,
to gain yourself life forever ,
Time’s sickle stands to defeat ,
When fates strands you sever ,

Ye gods we live in great times ,
Clink glasses in our evening meal,
For no matter what our crimes ,
Hourglass sands a seplucher seal,

But it is cause we love life ,
And all it’s faults and glories,
And in passing we’ll outlive all strife,
And entertain with all our stories,

Passions wane and then regrets suffice,
Or arise again until we feel love loves lashes,
But mortal love be burnt in sacrifice ,
And we’ll dance upon their ashes ,

striking distance

Many pity the hope that’s lost,
And often spend time to seek,
Scars are often worth the cost,
And forgiveness is not for the meek,

But to hear the words aloud,
Of love and tokens of forever,
A broken heart worn as a shroud,
When last labored breaths revert to never,

Moving on is the human way,
To spite love’s love with distance,
For in that single utterance “stay,”
One falters in resistance,

So in the moaning and torn breast,
Of mourning both death and dawn,
The sun may rise in the west,
When love’s impossible strength is drawn,

dualist/duelist

Knowing my deep love for Rostand,
And his city Paris alight ,
A long nosed poet can understand ,
All those lusting for the night,

Never having been too good a Christian,
In faith, barbarity or good looks,
Walking in silver moonlight again,
Forever a dualist duelist in DeCartes books,

But longing for red haired dancer,
And true love that’s sung,
Her voice make her a necromancer,
When deaths steel has stung,

Come what may, They will say,
And watch the brazon can-can,
Beauty fair a pained soul betray,
When one loves a courtesan,

this and next life

smiling times with trysting goblet,
Hands bound in shining star,
Ribbon shown lips wine now wet,
A hearts bound both near and far,

A proclaimation for eternity,
To the gods both black and white,
In health and in infirmity,
Two become one that very night,

For the union of two souls,
And the joining of blood and kin,
The four winds cry when bell tolls,
And new life may soon begin,

So drink you fill and burn the sage,
Light the candle and share your vows,
Love will outlast this age,
Cause is what the power allows,


Shadows redeeming

It's hard for those in shadows dwell,
hiding till you strike fast n clean,
a lost path an intimate hell,
invisible to those often unseen,

in arms of steel and flesh,
garbed in soul of infinite black,
problems of the way emesh,
when the abyss plans attack,

the is a way to find the path,
a hearts true calling win,
emminence will forswear it's wrath,
when you mistake shadow for skin,

close your eyes and reach out,
no need to fear the night,
the hearts path is not your wherabout,
it's just standing in the light

the drowning

staying below my powers of detection
at the cost of barely a soul
perfect to casual inspection
mistaking love for control

looking deeper I see a wave
soon the drowning unable to recover
at least I might be able to save
before consumed in water as if by lover

of tales of long ago and once upon
and once said forever sweet
differences between getting over and going on
so loves like rhyme of repeat

so I continue as I always will
becuase what I do is survive
of tides and wake I drink my fill
cause at least I am alive

intellectual stimulation

There are times when to stir one's mind
my kitten, you need a mystery
a problem and answer to find
to put the end to puzzle emnity

but to the answer a question arises
scores more from that beget
in the clues their own suprises
when mind in time beset

I ask in this inquiry
the reason for interrogation
written in this poetic diary
your need for stimulation

So in this frame I ask
and this odd physic administer
I hope these words are up to the task
and make smile my sassy spinster

man of letters

A Man of Letters


Sometimes in rhyme forget
these poems I scribe
written when thoughts beset
the chant of our tribe

that in love I write
the words the need be said
to make these words alight
to the eyes in which they're read

often times I say and believe
by the flaillng pen and blade
in thier gifts the poet recevice
before the inked page doth fade

to know of love deep within
and by it's warmth fight the cold
a new verse will soon begin
love is only for the bold

A princess in a tower in Queens

with magic might to make some cower,
tainted with fright as it's means,
crenelations hide a deeper power,
tis not hard to spot a princess in Queens,...
through her hair not dangle to the ground,
and for her prince she doesn't bother to wait,
in jewel and stone her magic is found,
and that is not left to debate,
so beware this queen of cats,
and wisely succumb to the pur,
all ill suitors scatter like rats,
when in her tower she gives tour,
so listen closely to my tale,
I'll save you a world of harms,
this kittens tale may impale,
if distracted by her charms,

Another Love Poem

what holds one's heart dear,
when is distance torn asunder,
this love fable kind to the ear,
when hearts pounding rings of thunder,...
I missed her it was a chore,
to the memory to my regret,
lost in her metaphor ,
until my hear heals and reset,
I am it's champion as love goes,
I believe it heals and graces,
pages full of choppy prose,
love lies not in the realm of faces,
beauty tricks yet true beauty glows,
in the heart and words sweet spoken,
for loves translation only the heart knows,
and accept this love poems token,

Shortchanged at Family Mart

whether in family mart uh of GS 25,
you'll eventually become a statisitc,
having enough won to survive,
but fail in terms linquistic,...
as a weygookin you have no chance,
of getting your point across,
pantamime and a few nouns become the dance,
like dealing with insane hogwan boss,
you take the words you know as a tool,
like anyong or il mei yo,
struggling with inconstsnt Hangeul,
pronunciation becomes the foe,
so hold not the clerk circumspect,
the mistake was in no way cruel,
not our fault they hold little respect,
for us teachers of Eueongereul,

Legend for Romanized KoreanHangeul ( Korean ) Hogwan ( private English hell school)Aniyong(informal hello), Il Mei yo ( "How much is this?")Eugeonerul ( English), Family Mart/GS 25 ( Korean equivalet of 7-11)

Heat

in oppression it shows brightly it's won,
when glare and light doth meet,
we can curse the shining sun,
and lay our thoughts on deeper heat

More for in it's life giving fire,
many a prayers he's calls in coven,
I rather in air conditioning perspire,
then reside in a blazing oven,

so in it's cruelty we start to yearn,
for autumnal or winter days,
in it's coutenence pale skin will burn,
and to a redness color dispalys,

so I hope in gained humidity
pray for a summer storm,
the sun is ingnorant of it's own cupidity,
and curl up close to a heart more warm,

some haiku

my heart is alight
with the sun of her gazing
a fire reborn

at last ki sa do
how few now remeber iy
engendered whithin

tomorrow does call
my new future at last free
let go of the ghost

now an older man
seeing truth behing the smile
covets the fair mask

passion encircles
adoring consumation
yielding to embrace

interesting turn of events

well made it home after 22 hour flight, slept in Seoul Incheon airport. Flew to Tokyo had a seven hour layover and finally got back to the states and started the sordid business of looking for work. Having trained and fought masters. I've have been both knight and pirate. I detached myself from saving people who had either not contacted me or ony wanted something during my time in Asia. I'm looking now and trying to figure the next step. As I see it I got choices and decisions to make.

a quick note - I'm fine

I know it's been awhile. I've been sorting things out here. The public school interview fell through because the principal decided the day before the interview, that they didn't need more staff. So I am heading back home for a little bit to regroup. I have some hard won savings. Yesterday was july fourth and I spent it with the crew. We had a barbeque at Tanya's, watched American movies on DVD, ( roadhouse, freejack,serenity,tombstone)and set off some fireworks. It was a good independence day. The group which is now over thrity members is going strong. Now no one has to be alone. I am proud of my accomplishments here. I learned to survive with no help from the hogwan. Taught myself passable Korean, taught my students the best way I knew how, I'll miss most of them. I did alot of exploring. I've seen caves, mountains, waterfalls, new oceans. I managed to thrive a bit here. I manage money infinitely better, I smoke less, drink less, meditate, write, and work out more. I've also let alot of emotional stuff go. Hell I'm even positive at times. We see how things turn out. I will continue the blog.