Of Life & Death



We are born as infants-- 

all helpless & shrieking

while God, sitting over all meaning,

smiles (our direction) 


The first shrill cry, 

fresh as mother's morning bread

& innocent like nothing ever said

by man's tongue


What is beautiful of life? 

maybe that life creates

abundance & celebrates

all in itself? 




Shine bright as emotion, 

sweet Love

(as a northern star

south of me) 

Shine with desire, 

hairpinned future

(sainted past) 

Love controls us-- 

binds us in

swift hips(dancing) 

& holds us


holds us above




Nobody believes

there seems to be

nothing at all

to believe in


Nobody sees

what could be achieved

through the shining

in themselves  


Nobody tries

to make sacrifice

for life & death

& reason


Nobody at all

(just all feeling small) 

filing alone through

life's turnstiles




Weeds of Death, don't consume me

'fore I die, a suffering tree

as desecrated & broken as my body

my form (very purpose) resembling

something greater than simple reality

Weeds of Death, don't consume me