The conjuror

 The clearing was bare short clumped grass 
no higher than an ankle 
The soothsayer strode forward from the darkness
of the edge

His head inside his hood
his hands clasped
the solemn afternoon
was a swirl of fleeting light

The hull and husk of dead trees holding back the rest of the forest
skeletal and oppressive pale and obstructive
The soothsayer eyes them as if alive
then turned back to the grass

The open palm opens the earth
and through it comes the alter
the skies darken and the woods around rustle 
the alter rises and on it´s slate rock top the unknown rune

In the windless darkened sky the rune reflects a glow 
within the nimbus
The air bewitched
Overcome by the imprecation
seduced by the malison

The conjuror absorbed the storm
fingers on fire
Hair fell from the hood
and the face was revealed as lightning crashed

seven wolves poked out of the undergrowth
forming a circle around the alter
eyes lit up nostrils flared
The soothsayer put his hand on the alter

Lightning burst out
from about 2 kilometers high
arching down onto the man
lighting the rest of him like an incendiary

My hungry beak

 The king pigeon took the center
ducking his head
A misfit a killer spraying bacteria on the street below
like a concert

The other pigeons looked on and imitated
grey skies hugging their backs
apartments as grey and delapidated as they
as they surveyed

For this city is theirs
the homeless do lie
and cry too lazy to scavange or admit they are rabid
The bird has no such shame

To infame ingrain and insane it´s existance
the king pigeon dressed in humming parasites
flies down to the scrap
The homeless have let lay

Maggots and grain

The pigeons follow him ducky heads clicking and beaking all stray
feeding out of the street like butts in an ashtray
That king´s eye catches mine like a falling shameless grain out of the sky
No words or gesture no sound or speak
A familiar spark as I saunter, smile forming across my hungry beak

The hand of an artist

 The eternal Claire Jennings
A piece of nature before and after the insignificant glint of existance
The potent magic of art the eye once alive
brings the observer as the serpent upon an empty earth

the canvas pale and uninvented preghost tool
Of all the insights hot warm, cold and cruel
Contrasts of life´s randomness longing for order
the fleeting supernatural 

The eternal artist intoxicated by color
saluting the ocean with a heartvalve
On those edible hills
this human human feast

The curve of the land in your hands
our cacophony in your swirl
echoing over the hard floors of your studio
like a raven who broke into your house

The unsound and uncertain whispering till their faces formed
their smiles and gestures reaching through you like children to cake
and then onto the canvas eccentric and uninvited
onto the checkerboard where humanity jousts

Light was given wings, darkness fire
and black and white squares dictated our lives like age
withering into an elaborate joke that could both taunt and confound
both quirk and smirk and befuddle the onlooker

The eternal woman of the wave of the paint of old winara
of Inverlockie and of the haunted sunset garden
Of the gull squawk and the dusk consciousness
Of the fruiting tree and the lonely hatman

How did you digest the sourness of old age
and with strength greet me here in midlight
How did you wrap yourself into the wind
While the rest of them deceased and decayed

Your strength and voice still marking my days
invigorating my veins
instigating my words
and annexing new realms
that our future selves will consume 

When to go

Animals stop scurrying
Birds hush in less than a second
so sharp is the silence and deafening
It seems to sever the very dimension
Under the canopy

 Oh the forest fell silent again
No exit from the undergrowth
That spector of the woods
spiritual mutation

The grizzly scream
Wheezing and curdling
drilling into the terrorized campers
stalking them in the sunless wood

Ambling with no permission
with no distinct form
pacing through the brush
anger in the movement of the translucent skeleton

only a mile from the disappearance 
of yesteryear since
Don´t investigate the strange shape and glow
just flee now and know when to go

Winter is starving and the evergreens stir
lost hikers astray in the snow just froze
yet something in the silence grows
you must flee

Take flight from the frozen wood
know when to go

The Dexter effect

 The crown fell
And a dream rose
A particle whispered
wealth cackled hysterically

The socialite gleamed phantom like
gloating and jeering
He came a scheme or two
To trick Timothy truly

Newbury port that colonial drama
Bedwarming stray cats
and coal that strikes the market
A scheme or two fell flat

Luck balled a fist
and set sail on two ships
The congress filled till the bough
mehitable abundant

The bright article
Sparkling immortal dust
covering the old whale bones
Until french corsets were fussed over

Another fortune being made over a ship´s deck
consolidating the Dexter effect 

Trench grunt betrayed

The solitary soldier
betrayed before the frontline
before that honourable sacrifice

Comedy for the corpse

In the dug out that any well timed
well aimed mortar would find and smile upon
inviting the glee of some urgent reaper
without the company beside him

As he had given his hours and existance
to protect and give safety
on an oath only visible on his heart
as bullets and bombs were sent

Separating rocks and trees from the landscape
But never his one value
pulling out those pieces of shrapnel
out of his friends

Then complete abandonment
tepid saliva from some uncaring colonel that spat
and controlled the destiny of the group
his corruption hurrying the enemy

The wind and the Jelly fish

 The wind is yours so don´t grab it desperately
out there by the willows
as if by watching them wavering like long hair was evidence
People need property even if it is a feeling

The wind is yours and you can´t move past it
you dream of being inside it navigating it
As a child running with it and calling it to follow you
One longs for control over anything

The wind is yours and whistles in the fine gaps inside window frames
as if talking to you
yet you can not distinguish it´s howl, it´s subtle ambiguity
machines that pine after certainty, what more is the heart than that?

The wind is yours yet the details of the landscape distract you
so it´s force is redundant for you now
for as a child you were godlike and an instigator of sassy chaos
Now you look for skeleton rules and physical structure inside a jellyfish