The Holy Mountain of Vengeance
In the land of seven rivers, where the gates of death are builded, Stands a mountain (I can see it on the days when clouds are lifted) That is sacred to Odurum of the everlasting anger, (Who sets the forest blazing with his everlasting anger,) They...
This Poem Is Haunted
This is the house that he built out of breath. That was his living. This is his death. These are his clothes, though he needs them no more. Those were his shoes, left outside the door. These are peeled grapes, but pretend they're his...
I Ask Myself How Is It I Have Come
I ask myself, how is it I have come, Still so far from the sunset of my days, (I pray tis not yet sunset on my days) Unto some chamber in the maze of life Where it is possible to hear you say 'I miss you' and 'I feel your absence in The...
I Do Not Fear A Season Without Hope
I do not fear a season without hope: Catastrophe upon catastrophe, When love is every day a little bit Made more a crime. When cruelty becomes The only virtue men know how to praise. When all but easy speeches are forbid To comfort cruel men. I...
Maybe All Confessional Essays Should Be Written In Blank Verse
This started as a question, in my head. Why can I not write love a happy end? Why, when I try, must I write mourning, loss, Bereavement and the need for elegy? I write unto my husband, whom I love, And it becomes a prayer for his soul. I write...
Tradewind Vs. Accord
Emily set down her cardboard tray. "We should do this more often." Seth and Martin both hesitated. She had to hand them each their own coffees, grumbling as she did. "Can't you read the names on the sides of the cup? It's not that hard." "I was...
My Heart is Full of Thunder
My heart is full of thunder. This is neither good nor bad. Which may lead you to wonder Just what sort of day I've had. And if you were standing under The fall of blood or rain, Then you may well think the thunder To be cries of crippling...
Blank Verse Essay on the Haunting of America
If you tell stories long enough my friend, I think, if you are honest, you must own That stories told here, told about here, try To turn into ghost stories. Only by Supreme and rigid force of will can you Tell any story in this land of ours And...
I've Lost Count of the Homes That I Have Lost
I've lost count of the homes that I have lost. One time too many I've been driven out. On futile search my substance to exhaust, In barren soil to sow my crop of doubt. I am no longer young. My years have worn Onto the age I ought to put down...
A Far Green Country
How often have I dreamed of such a place? How often have I seen those emerald fields, And in that dream, forgotten that I dreamed, That I would wake, had woken, and my life Dissolved into a peaceful deja vu That cannot be remembered? I can...
Ragnarok - Epilogue
So ends the tale of Shane the Champion. Of his blood-brother, Varr the Last-to-Flee. Of Klau the Berserker, called the Blacksword. Of the Old Man, who some hold was a god. Of the lost Witchfolk, and their young Lady Who solely of her people is not...
Ragnarok - XXVII
Somewhere it was autumn. On the shore Wind-kissed and smelling of soft salt there stood But three alone. The sighing pines atop The dunes were the last trees to wear their leaves. Somewhere it was evening. Heavy clouds Were crimson painted...