|Oddly, Ocracoke is not considered, jurisdictionally at least, to be part of the OBX destination. No problemo - I prefer to "Hyde."|
that there’s a Star Trek backdrop landing party sound
steadily powering the daily arc of the mighty Sun.
it is the whisper of the gentle One
who only speaks when water parts the ways
away from home sweet home.
Not leaves all moving at once!
As if osmosis needed tips to choral on this island beach.
Stop naming actors the tree,
air and ear some symmetry,
to all that stenciled canvas chair.
This singular sonata be troupe, troubadour, itself the play.
The voice of Trinity comes to Mind
both close and far away.
Infinity not some measly frequency,
transit inside time in line
to some sense of biology.
forms an allwords backwards-forwards,
a simple sounding hiss
serpents seldom say but certain ones alone.
from the mother we destroy with Nature named of conquest since the womb,
where we became and then quickly severed of the cord
to fill some twin bellows with air instead of breathing deep.
All of us, islands of God!
What is shushing that never ever stops?
directly in the evernow to her lovely creation abandoned in the mirror dark
who longs for her even though she is not gone,
but simply not able to enfold innocence
like Mary doth blessed Grace bestowed.
|View from high atop The Castle B&B, looking out to Silver Lake over green carpets of magic.|
And still the jealous, jaded Djin do pry herein.
Gravel grinds below, interrupts the flow,
car tires crush pebbles down to ground,
as if to steal the sacred sound
above singing in the trees
and on my level love through the stringed metal sieves
we call screens and do not see upon,
but only through.
|Nobody ever noticed the gnarly liongoths on the coat tree in the hall from the back porch until I took this picture. Creepier still is the staircase to our lovely rooms in the mirror, as if indeed other worlds do put pins in that map in the parlor too.|
this serpent does,
staccato of the doors slams shut,
each invented guest
an effort to distract
rightful heir from noblesse.
Fall longshadows under railings creep and upon my neck wrap dark fingers 'round,
but they cannot squeeze precious air from the apple of this Adam’s neck.
Forks make fingers of the dark but only out of light,
and out of the corner of my sight,
I realize this is no Setting Son.
is this torch etched from Sol above,
who moves across the porch surely as he does a day,
warmshouldered I am prepared to say:
Too late, shadows!
I know walls from caves and acts so flat that are more close to mouth and flame.
Allegory or not, here I come!
With golden hues ablaze
She somehow says as sits still
the golden rays:
"The clock! A false device!
A paternal pimp to pass the time as excrement
and not take in as wine.
Silver rings these awful things
in schools in offices are hanged
to hypnotize, on walls in banks
and even multiplied on newsroom stalls
For its sweeping hands and charms
you must not ever fall.
At twelve it does not begin
nor does it end, for Omega and Alpha
no one numeral can ever be."
yet every wheel in history to just a dozen number gauged,
circled round the town a compass three and nine,
and doubled in your mind alone
with the two faces of twelve...
How they fear thirteen!
My God, the rising voice in just one gust of wind!
And an image comes to me
not on cavewall nor forestry with magic
or some brush never stroked.
I see, and I love her
and I cry.
iridescent above the tree is one instant past the ugly hag,
and I have not abandoned her
for I know now her sacrifice radiates youth to me the same,
so I the beauty keep in Death
disguised as supple skin but not in vain.
the Oldest Lady in the world
whispers unto me on leaving for the Sea……
on the sands Neptune’s pull shall not retrieve.
Know Thee child the face of time a magic spell,
an insult on the circle of the true and living Soul,
for sell they’ve stamped you through in Red,
for commercial trade you are bred
and they’ve covered Mari from the Time instead…
but see how their Laws nor admirals do not preside
when land is water put aside by Sound.”
"all trees wave goodbye…
my seeds the last spell down, Dell shall not Ye bind, do not cry!
Must Ye your bretheren show be digital, unmasked
coordinated grid hath caged Spirit’s move in colon pair.
The revolution twenty-four,
Cosmos knows you are coming to the Door
and they can only fear.”
Bullet points. Lists.
as if persistence of vision came upon the wind in trees.
It ushers back through reeds, tall grass and varied leaves,
loud as daysound despite lonely haunt of hollownight,
"Do not ever fear
the end of time that is near…
but see it for its Word
Logos lives now among us All,
not in history
but next to you my dear.
on the island you have found
and share the secret of its name
the longbeach village entropy
where mermaids bring my work
unto your artist’s ear
lose their very heads
to protect the ocean blue above
who call the mystic queer."