Cardinal

North to none, the void of night,
South to skies and gift of sight,
West to wings of worlds to write,
East to all engulfed by light.

North to numbers' ceaseless flow,
South to souls of winds ablow,
West to wax wicks, waning slow,
East to echoes doomed to grow.

North where naught is different daring,
South with sundered souls despairing,
West of time and words uncaring,
East––the end of world sans bearing.





The longer the winds blow, the further we travel toward unheard echoes, the more we yearn for that which we can never attain. So close, and yet so far...the path in the rubble, the arrow in the dust...the soul is but a sail, destiny but a destination...within the tempest that is time, we all seek our bearing.

On Success

To bid unbidden souls to fight,
To stand unyielding in their light,
To send unwitting swords to fray,
To rejoice their derring-do by day,
And to shelter aft by night,
Thus is the warrior's way.

To lie belying truth at one,
To slander the not-yet begun,
To accost the cost of lies at two,
To affirm the need to follow through,
And desert before the task is done,
As politicians do.

And so can you.





I apologize for the hiatus from this blog; I was afflicted by what I suppose can be considered poet's block. In addition, my schedule was tighter than usual due to a project I was working on. Anyhow, here we are again.

The Nowhere Walk

More poetry!

We walk,
Our shadows trailing long amidst a wake of dust.
We speak,
Our words a haze of lies within truth within lies.
We watch,
Our eyes that seek the rust upon the needle.
We ponder,
Our thoughts lingering in states that are neither and both.
We sleep,
Our dreams a soundscape of whispering voices.
We live,
Our time a sliver of gold on the current.
But then we find
The gold is hay, and the voices tell lies of the dust.