Words and Willfulness by the Wayside

Need not dwell on all that has vanished to the wayside…

all the pokes and prods…

all the worries on the doorstep.

Words and willfulness that weigh on my features.

Pen and paper missteps etched in hollow bark meant to…undo.

A drumming beat…that is not quite thunder-like.

Rhythm’s noise now…an imperfect blue funk mixed with classic hues and purposeful refrain.

A tune not a one can claim.

Divergence’s influence…small tunnels from matter to the mane. 

firing at trees
I would imagine it is difficult to stare into the woods…to see only one tree.  But then again, an     un-examined life is no small feat.

the Enamel of Spring

Cavity to a relic bone…

cool cold sets in…dismal and encouraging.

Not among wealth but amid slothful home.

I am ravished in petty accolades.

Never left…unto my own.

Westerly winds itch at the hem of spring’s fertile making of a fool.

However, April promises an essential maverick.

Light of day eases winter’s shame.

Offspring from a December’s nap come out for play.

They clamor and clatter at the air and offer an after bite.

Too soon daylight turns to a fitful night.

Resisting Everything but Temptation

...temptations come and temptations go...what are you going to do about it...that's what I'd like to know
…temptations come and temptations go…what are you going to do about it…that’s what I’d like to know

“He grinned. “I was trying to remember all the deadly sins the other day,” he said. “Greed,envy, gluttony, irony, pedantry…”
“I’m pretty sure irony isn’t a deadly sin.”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
Lust,” she said. “Lust is a deadly sin.”
“And spanking.”
“I think that falls under lust.”
“I think it should have its own category,” said Jace. “Greed, envy, gluttony, irony, pedantry, lust, and spanking.”
Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls


always lead a lustful life
always lead a lustful life