left to write

I'm left to write
what you're right
to leave....

well enough
isn't alone
to dwell upon
where's yet to go

" the house of god "
wasn't made just so
"and to metre "
is to scale the moon

" a doubt of measure "
is the treasure, of one
not least at last...
the pyramidion

seven and seven
there's land to see
forty four days
plus one to be
" identification "
as a mark on me
a greater cycle
than 123
fifty two harks
a full century

" circles retreat "
cubits complete
and a heart...
gains sensory
" perception "


Simon's Magician bets Dylan a Dollar

" the post cards coming "
and the paintings a Parlor

A blind commission
for Simon's daughter
renders faith
a matter of Nature
yet the intellect...
has a principle power

A tight-rope walker
does a dance with fire
and the angels came
claiming one's for hire

" O father I sigh "

as upon the canvas
three wise men
came with Cain and cashless

Able I am
to paint the classics
yet to move the moon...
is to bare with Atlas

... and Darius
on the wings of a throne
I'd rather a monarch
fly with just her arms

" efforts best easy "
on this road I've gone
a twisting Storm
in a stoic calm

seven sweet spheres
in the body of one
tips green on a brush
in the name of our sun


" Solaris Maximus "
is in fact, to us
a blazing light
from the darkest Knight
of understanding
it's not quite right
nor did it leave
what's left in sight

" oceans away "
we don't test but play
for communication
of a light display
to simulate
stimulating ways
to remain intact
as the pact she made

" you don't square me "
is the what came may

" your meridian "
is the line she laid

" and no mediums "
ever channeled her way
and so steady...
we continue
to day

" who you calling IT, buster? "


A Dog Gone Scribe

There lives a tribe
more ancient than truth
who wrote a tale
of Venus’s youth

" From Jupiter came…"
what remains to be seen
as a come what may
for all that’s been

A dog, gone scribe says
" to say my name "
is to know exactly
what serious means

A system of nine
is more than sublime
and we’ve yet to see
what we hear in rhyme

Of creation, tradition
is a matter of waves
of elation, prediction
is a water that saves
of the ages, addition
is the heart who braves
to know light…
is the write
we crave

" how did a cat survive "
when she got to the other side
as a god sent a dog, gone scribe…

a collision of worlds
to reclaim her Pride.
as aLion
she never lies


Level 13

The Mayan's Mason
Built levels to see
That the perimeter
Is secure

481 x 2 = 962 / 74 = 13

The Monk's Egyptian
and the 'know'

The Sun

Ain’t no sunshine
Where I’ve gone
And it’s not warm
When you’re all alone
This place
Just isn’t home
As the darkness
Stretches on

But I won’t be long

I won’t be long
and yes, know

That I’ll know

When I return…

leaves Jupiter