Around my studios coil
Hydras of light

Burning with the sound
Of the music
In my head

They speak to me
Reach out to me
Tell me to see
The light they bring

Spent hours
Their language
And tongue

I know how to speak it
But forgot it
How come?

Lest the hydras
Cease to speak
As I sit and weep
In wait for weeks

Until they return
Speaking a new
Dialect of creation
And changing colors

Of the light
In their spines
And breath
From many heads

These hydras twist
And coil around
My legs and move me
To translate for them

The things in my head
Are hydras

They make light
With the sound of thought

And when you kill one
Two more are reborn
From the fire of
Cauterizing creation



They stand tall
Beside each other,
With the heat of their
Hiss and hum echoing through
The valley.

They reshape maps
When they walk.

They roam and stand
Old as sin,
Strong, and speak,

“This place is a maze.”
They say.
“Those echoes you hear
Take over your mind
And play.”

“It is warm, we know,
But only entering the light
Will cause you to be
Lost to the corners of time.”

Hours, perhaps,
Or even years.

Maybe beyond the
Dusky shadow of the
Titan’s pass
There’s a place for you
To get lost.

Fiber optic flora

Inhabiting the boulder
Cracks and trees
Tough as rock,

To bend your mind,
To lose all that time
And traverse the maze.

Titans see the paths
All their feet fell.

“But you are miniscule
And you won’t fare
Very well.”

“But go on, little one,
You aren’t the first
Who has.”

It’s the sense of wonder,
A will to outlast
All the magic
Like the context spinning
In your thoughts.

“A substance you’d rather
Lose to the maze?”
They’re afraid.

No contest, no where to run
But the maze.

“Look back at things
Conquered and think this
Will be the same?”
A voice bellows.

Behind is something
Too familiar,
Where no horizon hasn’t
Been seen but what lies
Within the Titan’s Maze.

They’re wise, like elders of
Our species, but they speak
Softly and demand us
To see

Why we want
To enter the maze;

What could lie in their vegas
For us to see.

Fiber optic flowers.
Trees tough as rock.

No context: can you outlast?

Is there something more
Beyond the shadow
Of the titan’s pass?

Hawaiian Corvidae

Hawaiian Corvidae

On a chain
Around a neck

Consider an early gifted
Die cast sheen
Swaying in the breeze

Ages ancient
‘Alala cawed and
Alala was prayed to

Islands ago
Volcanos yet
To show

These are the skulls
Of dead
Hawaiian crows

An Old Legend

An Old Legend

One day, they will say
The prince arrived in a new land
And for months, they will say
He lived through every shapeless day
Not a foe engaged, nor a reason was made.
His mind was made,
That here he would stay
As the weeks wore on
And winter turned to spring,
The days lost interest
And the birds stopped chirping
The rivers stopped rushing
And the rain stopped pouring
A goddess, they will say
Found him among the land
A note, they will say
That passed hand to hand
Found the prince, one fateful day
Then, he was away
The goddess, they will say
Appeared to him in a dream
A dream, they will say
That made him love again
A love he never knew,
And a love he sought to learn
The prince had only heard
Of the goddess who watched him
She was a myth, a shadow
Almost as quiet, yet timid as he
She knew more of him,
Than he of she
The goddess who broke silence,
Broke it for the prince
And the prince, they will say
Broke his for her, too
They talked all day, and into the night
Removing his days, which were blight
He found for her the stars
And she found for him his wings
The wings, they will say
That let them finally touch
A touch, they will say,
That expressed serenity
When he passed, she didn’t cry
For the goddess let him live with her
Among the stars, he stayed
Able to be with her every day
Never a reason, never known
Would ever make him leave home.
Our own legend, passed along
A prince and a goddess, they will say
Fell in love, one fateful day
Defying the past and rippling time
Making a niche, in a simple line
A model to all mankind,
The prince and the goddess,
Never fought, never lied
And they live on today,
Forging a future,
For those that come next.



Drywall is caked to a steel-toe boot
Laced up with copper, goodness is moot,
The wire was stolen; a prized piece of loot.

He carries a hammer, worthy of Thor.
“Borrowed” of course, from a hunger for more:
He stole the myths from old books of lore.

Now see him walk with a weapon so grand,
Dust and dirt stuck to his hands.
Of mighty mjolnir, he was once just a fan.

Organically Spiritual Moon Rocks

organically spiritual moon rocks

Organically Spiritual Moon Rocks

There were three rocks in a field
Where the flowers around them grew
An endless wonder waiting weld
Where it all came from, no one knew

Three ghosts once went to the moon
From Luna they each took a gift
A souvinier to take home soon
A piece of something not to miss

When they arrived on the Earth
They created a magic place
Where nothing was ever birthed
Save for plants who grew unerased

Nightshade and dandelions
Never friends, or companion
Shook hands and settled on
Found in them to show compassion

The rocks were placed by each other
Gifts from Luna come to rest
A triangle in a field, not another
Moon rocks in this place, the best

That was years ago
Too many moons passed away
A place that no one would know
A place full of good and light’s day

Concrete Blocks

Concrete Blocks

There is a field far away from here
With a pink sky and orange clouds
Where flowers bloom yellow and red
Where butterflies roam and spread

Here the concrete blocks rest
People come to them every day
But the blocks quietly observe
As people go on with their way

In deep cover, under mystical guard
The blocks were left here as a gift
Ancient relics left and made to stay
For years they’ve talked to all of us

So come with me to the concrete blocks
Where no one will hear us talk
Except for the others, who are very special
And even they can keep all kinds of secrets

Look at me and speak the truth
I have many friends who are here
Here to listen to what you say
Here to witness the events of today

Hold my hand and rest your shoulder
Feel my cold friend beneath us
Warm with me, my friend won’t mind
It’s making him comfortably colder

Run your fingers along the cracks
Track the dirt and rubble with hands
Listen to what the concrete says
Listen to the history it has seen

All the people who have passed
All the people made of glass
Shallow puddles and hard rain
The blocks have seen everything

Hold my hand and rest your shoulder
Run your fingers along the cracks
Listen to what the concrete says
The blocks have seen everything