A delicate princess
atop a glass mountain
beckons in woe
to yon knights below…
Noble champions
on armored stallions
snorting fire,
ascend with spiked hoofs
far up the glassy wall
only to finally slide
and clamor down
again into
the brash bowels
of normalcy…

Late at night
when my work is done
And I lay my books aside,
my thoughts begin to wander
through dark trees
and hills outside.

They fly across a river,
and a sleeping city too,
and wind up a familiar road
to rest at last with you…..

While you lay asleep
in your darkened room
and think that I’m away,
my thoughts creep
In there with you
to watch you where you lay…

And in my thoughts
I am there too,
so before they take
their flight,
I tiptoe to your bed
sweetheart
and there kiss you
goodnight.

But late thoughts soon
grow weary,
my eyelids close, and then
such dear thoughts turn
To pleasant dreams,
and there we meet again.

I wish my dreams could
enter yours;
then you could see me there,
reaching for your gentle hand
to kiss your lips so fair….
If I
ever had to travel
to places far away,
my thoughts would cross
an oceanand with you
they would stay.

And if I had to leave this life
there’d be no need to cry.
For if you thought
and dreamed of me,
I’d always be alive….

In a hundred years
we’ll both be gone
from this world of love
and pain,
but somewhere
in another realm
we’ll meet and love again….

For in the land of thoughts
and dreams
true lovers never die….
They live on and on forever
In castles in the sky…

Late thoughts oft turn
to fancy, dear,
but this I know is true:
My fancies are of just one love
and that, my love,

is you….

What should the color
of our love be?
Maybe it should be red.
Red is danger, excitement,
fire, blood, passion….

But danger without purpose?
Excitement without meaning?
Fire without substance?
Blood without body?
Passion without love?
The sound of red is noise.
Its movement has no depth.
Its life contains no mystery.
Scarlet love attracts the eye,
But fools the heart,
deceives the mind,
and ignores the soul.

Then surely it should be blue.
Blue holds beauty
that is calm, silent, serene…
It is the deep, cool waters.
It is the vast, quiet sky.
holding all of its mysteries…..

But eternal quiet can be maddening.
And its depth shows no movement.
Nor does its mystery show me life.
It is body without blood….
substance without fire…..
Its coldness bares no excitement,
no danger or passion.
It too holds no meaning,
no purpose or love.
Though blue pleases the eye,
touches the heart,
and intrigues the mind,
it still leaves in the end
an empty soul….

Though my surface sometimes
seems red, sweetheart,
beneath there dwell shadings of blue.
And I’m sure that beneath
your surface of blue,
bright shades of red dwell in you too.
Could you bring out the blue
in me, and I the red in you,
the colors of our love would blend
to a vibrant violet hue….

Then our bodies would receive new blood.
Our depth would again have movement.
Our silence would burst into to melody.
Our excitement would find its meaning.
All mysteries would contain new life…

As one night I lay dreaming
my thoughts took strange flight
back through eons of time
into dark mists of night….

The night-breeze blew warm
beneath black, desert skies….
And I stood gazing down
into dark, sultry eyes….
I was a young pharaoh
and she a queen
whose face I had
at some other time seen….
Words strangely familiar
I wanted to say,
but, like a phantom,
her vision soon faded away….

But my dreams wouldn’t be still;
they had to fly on
to another time
in days bygone…

Legions of Romans with
flashing swords
standing off waves of
savage hordes.
And I was a dying
legionnaire
with fading thoughts
of a maiden fair…
The same strange feelings
flooded my heart.
She was from a world
of which I was a part

But my dreams
wouldn’t dwell
in a particular time
Again they flew on
without reason or rhyme…
I became a knight
on a pale white steed
engaged upon a noble deed
to rescue a maid for whom
my love was so strong
it was sung through the land
In troubadour’s song.
I urged my steed onward
shouting, “Once she was mine -
and will be again through
far reaches of time…..”

Then I awoke in the present,
feeling somewhat dismayed
with the feeling I still was
in those bygone days….
But the truth was revealed:
Though it seemed odd, it’s true….
Throughout all the ages
that dream girl was

you……

I dreamt of finding
a secret place,
a place never to
be found again.
A sacred garden…
with shimmering pool
fed by streams winding
through wild flowers
and willowy trees…

By the pool
was a shrine,
of a golden goddess.
The sunbeams danced.
An ember light
sparked her eye.
She began to stir.
I was bedazzled
by such beauty.

But then the sky
grew dark.
A cloud’s shadow
descended
upon the garden
bringing shivering,
brittle,
ice-clear night.
Then reality
vomited from the earth.

And I awoke --
to a gray, wet morning…

Raindrops turn to teardrops
as they bead upon my window.
And I lay there staring….
thinking about gardens…..

She howls with the wind….
Seducer of sleeping men.
Devourer of children.
Ancestor of Eve.
Rejecter of Adam.
Provoker of God….
Behold the very first woman…
The great she-devil: Lillith.

Equal to Adam in every way.
No subordinate would she be….
Was cast from Eden for defiance
to God.
Banished to the desert regions,
the wild forests, the dark waters…..
Now running with the wolves.
Now billowing in the stormy sea….

Lilith remains the fierce rage
brewing in the breast of
Woman
Since the time of the Goddess:
when women ruled
in the Golden Age
before men’s wars,
and the desecration of our great
Earth Mother….
Lillith will one day return
to bring our fierce race to justice.

Already proclaimed
in the Holy Book of Revelation:
“When a Great omen appeared
in the heavens:
A woman clothed with the sun
and crowned with stars
was with child.
And she cried out in her pangs
of birth” – -
in her throes of birthing
the hordes of demons to be
unleashed upon this earth
when arrives those final days…..

How brief our egos,
these separate selves….
Could their exist a state
beyond such transience,
beneath and beyond
all conceivable dimensions,
a state transcending our
awareness
as ours now transcends
that of a microbe?

Such God’s-eye perspective
might see each finite ego as
but a snagged flea struggling
mightily in a web
to save its small life;
for it could realize no higher
existence.

But the mystics see liberation
akin to a spark returning
to its flame…
a raindrop returning
home to the sea….
a crumbled courtyard wall
now letting the sun shine
everywhere without shadow….

The Book of the Dead
speaks of self-liberation as
becoming a sibling of the moon,
a child of the stars,
revolving in the heavens,
rising with the sun….

Perhaps death is merely
a stepping out of time
into an Eternity
beyond what we can ever
conceive….

In vain I searched
the endless sky
Now who can show me
thoughts on high?
….I

Where comes this sound
that seems so near,
a voice I cannot see
but hear?
…Here

An echo voice
sounds in the night!
From what source comes
such strange delight
…Light

In this bleak chamber
light is dim.
Could this light
come from within?
Within

Yes, deep within
I sense you solely.
But tell me,just what
are you wholely?
…Holy

Are you the deep
and holy light
that oft inspires
what I write?
…Right

Then I have questions,
gentle glow.
Are there things
You do not know?
…No

Then tell me what
swooped from above
and smote me with
a silken glove?
…Love

Through you I pray
my doubts be ended.
Is my quest for true
loveended?
…Ended

Of other loves
that you could show
one,could it be
I’ll never know one?
… No one

But love brings pain,
how well I know it.
Should I then keep it
or forego it?
…Go it

When fears and doubts
start to forsake her’
how can my love
then overtake her?
…Take her

A purer heart
I’ll never find.
But how can I know
she will be kind?
…Be kind

If she and I
be not love’s toy,
what moments will we
most enjoy?
…Joy

You’ve had, I pray
sound truths to tell.
Now that I know,
I’ll guard her well.
…Guard her well.
Yes,guard her well....

Your forms are ageless
and forever changing….

Now you are Rea,
with high throne
at your back
and panthers
at your side
The dark depths
of the forest
ring with the cries
of your worshipers.

You are my queen.
Now with the cruel eyes
of a tiger,
a beauty
turned barbaric.
Forgive me if I fail
to hear the words
you speak.
for I am struck dumb
and helpless
by your beauty…..

Behind silken veils
your face is oriental,
stark white in beauty…

Darkness descending…
Torches born in processions
illume our chambers…

Shadows of color,
as a jeweled moth alights
onto a jade shrine…

This night in a dream
I behold your sleeping face
shinning in the stars…

The dark sky glows blue
before the dawn awakens…
Stars sparkle the waters.

Now the dawn arrives…
Buds bathed in strawberry glow
unfold their splendor…

Shining dewdrop falls,
awakening a butterfly…
It opens its wings

You open your eyes…
Your fair arms unfolding
for our embrace…

Storms of life roll in like
waves
unfurling fiery scrolls.
But each will pass.
Then comes the calm,
the period of repose.

So when those storms of life
surge in,
no need to be forlorn.
Ride out each wave with
inner calm.
Then surge ahead with
inner storm….

Country Girl, you really are sweet.

Very nice.
Bravo!

Down in the basement
we’d drink, and sing songs,
play cards, and shoot dice
the whole night long.

But we’d sometimes get visits
from granny upstairs.
She’s come down at all hours,
catch us unawares…

Then she’d look at us sternly.
“Are you boys drinking beer?”
And if we hid the bottles,
she’d find out just where.

Then she’d snatch my beer bottle,
hold me off with her crutch.
“I’m doing this for your good
‘cause you’re drinking too much.”

She’d chug down the beer
as quick as she could,
then chug down another –
all for my own good….

One night she came down
when we ran out of beer.
“Where’s the beer, Sonny?
I know it’s hid near.”

“But we’re out of beer, grandma.
There just aint no more.”
She hit me with her crutch…
Knocked me clean to the floor.
“Don’t you ever hide beer
from me here any more!”

So from that one night on,
we were wise to her game.
Kept a spare beer handy
for when granny came…

I dreamt of drinking
blood red wine
beneath a scarlet sky…
My mind
in fading violet glow
sunk down
where thought-forms lie…

A weird world merged
through glowing gloom…
Red clouds turned
blue black night…
Through pearly fields
a silver road
wound through
the white moonlight…

Strange whispers beckoned:
“Walk this road
and leave all cares behind…”
As in a trance, I tread
the shimmering byways
of the mind…

Then, an angel blocked my way,
refused to let me by…..
My eyes flew wide and startled
to the blue of blazing sky…

Then I saw your face once more…
Your voice was at my side.
Your glowing presence
saved my soul…..

the night I would have
died….

You see them each night
on the seamy side of town
sauntering, prancing
past bar-rooms, dance halls,
after-hour diners…..

One strolled up
to my car window.
“Lookin for a good time mister?
I can give you pleasures
your woman won’t allow.”

What lay behind those vacant eyes?
What secret horrors suppressed
within that drugged and dying soul?
Hell, even a whore was a virgin once.

So I said to her,
“Here’s some money, sweetheart;
and one less John to desecrate
God’s sacred child in you.”

Then, her mouth agape,
I left and drove off
alone…

O Lord, forgive my idolatries
due to my human limitations.
You are everywhere,
but I worship you here.
You are without form.
But I worship in these forms.
You need no praise,
yet I offer you these prayers
and salutations.
O Great Mystery,
forgive these idolatries
due to my human limitations…
_______ Prayer of a Hindu
priest.

Storms of life roll in like
waves
unfurling fiery scrolls.
But each will pass.
Then comes the calm,
the period of repose.

So when those storms of life
surge in,
no need to be forlorn.
Ride out each wave with
inner calm.
Then surge ahead with
inner storm….

The cosmos has its
shadow side
bordering on the edge
of chaos and nothingness.
Yet, can chaos,
or cosmic darkness,
or the nothingness of
non-being contain
a realm called Hell?
Or are these but the limbo
of unborn potential,
the turbulent wombs
of new being
and more becoming?

Nay, the realm called Hell
can lurk only where there is
consciousness.
For without awareness
there can be no suffering,
and without suffering no Hell.
“The mind is its own place.,”
said Milton’s dark angel,
which can make
a Hell of Heaven and a
Heaven of Hell indeed.
I say: Change you mind.
Make your thoughts kind.
Walk by faith not by sight.
Then you’ll escape Hell,
whether wrong or right......

Some call Satan
this world’s ruler.
I say it’s Mammon,
his great enticer –
and of course Ideology,
his great recruiter.

Hence the birthing
of history’s macabre
generations of anti-christs
and their religions
of the damned
better name
Greed, Power-lust,
and Homicidal Holiness. –
all in the name of a God
who is the father
of all lies indeed…

So we walk by faith
not be sight,
lest the true nature
of the world and God
would drive us
truly mad…..