Isis of Crisis
The silken road
of Afghan calm
that led me to Isis
The Queen Supreme
of my Karma Crisis
Born upon a desert storm
and a broken seance
There patiently
she awaits for me
at the Mirage Oasis
Tag: Poetry
Like a Rising Stone
Like a Rising Stone
~ a voyage of homage
A time for Life,
to seek, to be found.
To feel, and to be touched.
To hear truth.
How sweet the sound.
To taste goodness.
Goodness to be tasted.
To love, and to be loved.
Without the Divine,
the time of your life
. . . truly wasted
A Message
To know what Love is,
with just a picture big glimpse
through an open door.
Beyond the broken schemes,
and forsaken dreams,
littering a crooked floor.
Of things never spoken
this side of the shadow curtain.
Tasting that promise certain
of abundantly so much more.
The Laird of Bonnie Doon
New documentary & photographic
evidence has been unearthed that
an eleventh century Scottish Lord,
Bruce de Redpath, was crowned
King of Anglo Saxon England
on the 19th of October 1066.
Apparently, when the remaining
English Lords, huddled in London,
learned of King Harold’s demise
at the Battle of Hastings, they
turned to a Scotsman to fend
off Duke William of Normandy,
A.K.A. ‘William the Bastard’ to
his friends, & ‘Stormin’ Norman’
to his enemies.
The Happiness Report
The Happiness Report
from the pagan haven
of a guarded and gated
sunny seaside resort
Machine tooled
from a block of concrete
Then deposited
upon a mangrove swamp
along a once pristine coast
Now a checkpoint
and a guard tower
cast shadows
across the lungs of nature
dying of tourist cancer
Earth to Mars
Earth to Mars
My husband is missing
deep in cyber space
He was last seen on Mars
Does Elon Musk know
that my X Man
Captain Lex Icon
got there first?
Now I’ve lost all trace!
Werewolf Déluge
“Just keep on walking!”
I saw a werewolf
with a hymn book in his hand
prowling around
as he sniffed the ground
from Jonestown to Gaza
He’s that well manicured gent
some say he is heaven sent
I’d like to meet his tailor
You can hear him howling
on your television set
Better not turn it on
Little old lady got bitten
late last night
Werewolves of Religion again
. . . Ooh Ahh
