speed

some things are
*permissible*
for the mongrel,
others aren't.
i can be shaken
altered and augmented
by power greater than mine
by speed that laughs
at my feeble grasp.
i need not look
to men nor angels
to drug nor drink,
there's no answer within
but to get without
and slice the air
head down
heart still
hands ready
eyes sharp.
there's only me
and the road
and this thing
screaming and pulsing
between my legs
trying like the devil
to escape me,
unaware
that without my volition

there is no power
there is no peril
there is no purity

there's only mute potential.

Corinthians

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Now how about that. By this formula, I equal nothing. Works that have amounted to nil, insight that garners me nothing. Love...so hard.

forever

I do know deep down

I lack power to change

All the rampant unfairness,

All the hunger and pain.

I know I know fragments,

There are realms I can’t view

As a speck of dust floating

In the wake of a clue.

But I keep my mind boundless,

My culpability lean;

I divine the obscure

And the blatant I screen.

I cling hard to this view

From the vantage of dreams;

My soul is a vector

Set to burst this world’s seams.

I'll not cease to believe

I have magic inside,

My might is magnetic

And I move the tides.

I have answers for seekers

And mirth for the lame;

I'm replete with infinity:

Forever’s my name.

deep-seated

have i always been so wicked?

i look back through three decades and three years. in every era the telling high water marks of unabated rage remain. how has no one being managed to notice these malicious flares erupting from my soul?

silence. the thick, palpable silence cloaking my black heart invisible has afforded me sanctuary.

i was not abused, i was not neglected, i was not scorned. i was shown the wide way to the light, encouraged to follow the supreme example of selflessness and sacrifice for the good of myself and all. feigning love and light came so easy, truly feeling either i have found nigh impossible.

it has forged me from within, this raging fire fed not by air or light or love, but by darkest intent. maniacal cravings that have no place in what should be a soft mother's heart mock me from the wells of my eyes, my teeth grind for want of flesh, my hands itch to maim.

to what end shall i employ this great black passion? i have walked alone so long now, leashing myself with a noose lest i give way and irrevocably rout myself from the comfortable anonymity silence has afforded.

how much longer can i sustain this cover? in the end will i end myself to save all? or will i end all to savor myself?

awaken

great hunger stirs me from a thousand years' slumber. i rise, and prepare to feast my mind on the fruits of knowledge that have flourished in my stead.

i find no man's table before me, but a garden palatial, replete with all to sustain the flesh and overwhelm the senses. at my hand lie fruit, flower, nut and vine, circling a silent crystalline pool in fragrant splendour.

i pause before the temporal, fixing my eyes on a sparkle of dust floating at the center of the pool. the great void hunger that stabbed at my slumber implodes to infinity, and i am again whole. sated by nothing in the midst of everything, my mind teems with rapture.

three days

there was a day
quiet and benign
when they called me out
and set my young eyes
to feast upon that horror
which, above all else,
i held most abhorrent.
the cow, dead, bloated
rank for days, undiscovered,
and then by chance found
engrossed by union with
a most glorious host
churning, writhing,
the blind horde moving
as a single unit
into the carcass
out to the sun
and into the carcass again,
their rigorous roll
with such energy fraught
that the mass did
send off a violent steam.
those dread vile worms
that, since my lowly birth,
seized my heart with fear
when no other thing or man or beast
gave me slightest pause,
save the heights
that called for my leap
into death's sure grip.
they laughed when i cried,
refusing to bait my hooks
lest i touch the bane,
and associate myself again
with such great profanity.
in time i learned
to accept their station
to eschew
my fear at the sight of them
rather than the sight of them
for they are needful
and shall remain thus
as long as humanity abides
and corpses litter
the green earth.

***

on another day
i succumbed and pleaded
with all things holy and profane
to speak to me
to fill me with the Spirit,
with knowledge, truth and power.
she had challenged me
to the day of her death
as the interpretations
of the tongues
cried pointedly for one
to come forth from darkness.
she called me out
for the hardness of my heart
and the wickedness
in my silent soul
and with many prayers
did battle with things
locked in these limpid eyes.
she died, taking to her grave
the interpretations
and the tongues,
so i had peace from them
for a time too short.
but on that day,
beleaguered by the frailty
of my mortal ken
i turned from my hardness
and asked the Light to come to me
to fill me with power and all wisdom
that i might KNOW with certain surety,
that i was to be a sword
for the Almighty One.
and then did i rise
and in a language i knew not
engage the unseen
in probing conversation
for three long hours
as the parishioners gazed on
in fear masked in wonder.
unlike the tongues they'd known
which came and passed
with hasty admonitions and blessings
for the equal edification of all
ensuring lunch's timely arrival
this long night's vigil portended
some thing that settled uneasily
on the shallows of their hearts.
transfixed they remained
to watch me entreat the unseen one
to make demands with great fury
to pause for replies
to laugh with utter delight
to cry with bitter woe
while onerously arguing
topics of unknown importance
with a spirit still unknown to me.

•••

on this day
i thank the light
for turning my eye
to matters long shunned.
with this black heart
i go now to discern
all things that i know
yet know not
yet
and to discover
with greatest certainty
all that
i am.