The Laird of Bonnie Doon

A team of archaeologists
from the University Vladivostok
digging away in Scotland (in order
to avoid Putin’s draft … no doubt)
have recently unearthed a cache of
documents and artifacts pertaining to
a certain eleventh century Scottish
Lord, Bruce de Redpath.
The inevitable conclusions, and
inescapable implications, to be
drawn from these ground breaking
archaeological discoveries are truly
earth shattering, as it irrefutably
confirms the coronation of this
Scottish nobleman as the undisputed
King of Anglo-Saxon England on
the 19th day of October, 1066.
Evidently, in the aftermath of King
Harold’s death at the Battle of Hastings,
the remaining English Lords huddled
away in London turned to a Scotsman
to fend off Duke William of Normandy
(a.k.a. “William the Bastard” to his
few friends, and “Stormin’ Norman”
to his many enemies).

Continue reading “The Laird of Bonnie Doon”

Where Beauty Resides

The bells of liberty

by your stockings rung

The deepest restraints

in my hands … undone

A ladder of splendour

slowly climbing

Your sacrament melting

upon my thirsting tongue

quenched in the ocean

of love’s perfection

Down on bended knees

lost in the tender squeeze

of your wholly communion

To ride the high tide

of hard won liberation

Yet … I’m a captive slave

to your will being done

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Art From The Heart

let them go
line after line
let them blossom
or die on the vine
generations generating
like fish in the ocean
there is magic
in all creation
the diobolical
and the divine
the synthetic
and the truthful
poetry in motion
birth and death
the beautiful
and the hateful
feeding at the bottom
with hungry desperation
or at the top of your game
riding a high
of natural exhilaration

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The Grand Artisan

God … the ultimate Artist
The supreme Scientist
The intimate presence within
and throughout this existence
Regenesis … poetry in motion
Is she masculine
or is he feminine?
Is the answer
beyond our understanding?
Are we just avatars
in a game of actual reality
Is this life
an artistic documentary
viewed through
all the agony
and the ecstasy
the triumph and the tragedy?
Have we truly
been given a free hand
by the Artisan Grand
upon the canvas of eternity?

Or are we just
rats in a laboratory?
A collection of quarks
traversing the dark?
Mere particles within
the part and parcel
of subatomic intricacy?
An infinitesimal spark
in a dimension mechanical?
Speaking of relativity
where is the power and the glory?
A perpetual quantum
crunching the numbers
in some mindless continuum
Is that the universal story?

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He Eat Dolce Vita ~ revisited

sealed with a kiss and a warrant

He fly da vulture

He stranger than danger

He swamp da monster

He got winner envy

He lose by plenty

He look orange monkey

He big sunshine faker

He red carpet bagger

He Passé da posse grabber (?)

He dat hound dog’s brother

He da Beastie’s bestie

He one mother trucker

He be Frankenstein’s baby

Continue reading “He Eat Dolce Vita ~ revisited”