In the age before St. Patrick
Echu Ollathir to us bespeaks through sadness of his love:
“The death spirit of the boar enters the body.  It is the messenger of light.  The animal is within us.  The animal is the land.  The land is the life within us –nourishing and whole.”
So bespeaks the Dagdae of his love [...]

how
to locate
your soul’s refraction
of seamless
satisfaction

Morning let me die with you
for your breath is more promising
than death

I have seen the last breath
of night by morning light
and sucked life from it

Spinning
Eight legs
Smiling she waits
Silently

As I dance
I tremble with love
And twist about

She spins
Encircling me
With her power

I am lost

Up lifting down…
the air currents
chase each other
in the dusk chill.
Up lifting down…
frigid waters await
with Carmina Burana
occupying ears.
Up lifting down…
with spinning mind
racing for decisions
as easy as the wind.
Up lifting down…
the gift of flight
is short lived
and falls fleeting.

I daydream oft of my redemptive blood
splayed about the room
about me
and my twisted
heart eases.

I imagine my fall
into the path
of the sped
subway yet stay
my footing
lest my desire
should unbalance
my will

When my demons come for me
I won’t go with them willfully.

When my demons come for me
They chase my shade eternally
to holler and bellow
“Submit and follow.”

When my demons find my shadow
all weak, my gut hollow
they plant their ugly seed
’till I kneel and plead.

When my demons call for me,
they steal away my pride,
they tease, prod, chide,
’till someday [...]

My little moon
Dance
Moon bright
Pure night
Snow quiet
Deep
Miles of air
Frozen
To frame this night

I love a child
A newborn smile
A great cry
From a firm slap
To the supple bottom
Of my quiet words

Her cheeks dimple
But smirking chastity
Chases the dream away

I scribble over and over
White on white
As she disappears behind
A liquid corner
I spill around
To find her gone
Blank like the memory
Of my fiction

Yet the smiling vision
Dances in ink
Flowing
And eventually returns
Amid aires
To attend
To await [...]

Do what the music dictates
Do what… Do what
Sift through the arming light
Never left to linger
In stillness scattered
With moments grasping
Gasping at open echoes
Gates of passion gaping
In sound seething in
A ranchious rush
Of movement mounting
To madness