kittycorner from the manneken pis

Duvel
poured into a fluted glass
        which flutes likes a tulip does 
              a large bulb, arabesque indented meniscus and a lip 
when you pour the beer right down along
       the lower curve out 
             of that rounded arabesque tulip glass 
                    it seems to be all foam 
                             at first.
       until 
 it rises golden 
        spouting up the curve, along the glass flower 
              hitting the bottom and swirling bubbles up 
                     rising fermented waterspout typhoon 
choppy waves of heady foam
       above golden ocean 

and then the bottle is empty and the glass
        perhaps half full of beer
              another half inch of foam 
                    to dew my moustache 

Athena

wide white wings whispering graceful wisdom
knowledge revealed in shadowed glances
golden eyes hold the secrets of the sun
burnished whirlpools swirling pinwheel trances

Hindu calm over Grecian still life
until flight breaks out, a snow owl flown
Athena flies in the shape of a shrike
raptor dance in the sky like leaves windblown

the chase ends atop a Doric column
gold discs meet brilliant gaze unblinking
contract signed in the silence so solemn
a new ally in the war for thinking

the marriage of wisdom to intellect
both Athena’s gift and her last regret

The Owl

moonlit forest glade, dappled forest bower
pink fingers entwine the blue robe of night
Apollo departs from Hades at this hour
horizon haloed, corona of light

beneath the leaves heavy with morning dew
Athena’s gaze regards the rise of day
races the sun to discover anew
that heady edge where light and shadow play

silent forest speaks beneath sandaled feet
an immortal eye regards her passage
owl gaze camera on Athena fleet
staring enrapt at her divine visage

she is the dawn’s herald divine heiress
brain born storm spawn insane seductress


 

dark kin

there’s a node on my soul
a tumor growing
dying to be whole

swelling seeking lesion leeching
clinging limpet cloning legionary cells
hiding leaking seeping weeping sores
a dark son rising inside the house
noir Apollo killing to be free from
sordid damp clinging swamp morass
moss and lichen fungus of sin
a rude fugue occludes my mood

dark kin born of nightly sin
growing at night, denied the light
gnawing at the door, sawing at the floor

try to fight but I can’t win. roar
of frustration as dark heart eludes
my grasp. slips through my fists
like smoke, wrapping around my
head like an unheard joke. my rage
feeds it. my pain needs it. my heart
sunders, a house divided, split level
one good earthquake away from ruin

I turn to face my reflection
sable manifestation, so well known
I am my dark kin. these sins are my own

embrace the surface of the mirror fiercely
cracks spread liquid ripples slip right
through. face to face with my visage made
of ebony and smoke, black flames smile
at some secret joke. that only I can hear
raven dark rushes over me in an instant
coated in coal breathing in soot. washed
clean, in dark sand. breathing in jet fumes

until my breath frosts my image
and only I look back at me. whole
knowing that my darkness is free

The Spectacle

is a three faced god called the other
we worship a jealous, hungry deity
impiety yields time in prison
the price of peace a silent tongue
mind numb and eyes stitched blind
invisible chains of smoky lies

the Man in the top hat ringmaster of lies
mediascape magician, conjuror for the other
audience attentive, rapt as he robs them blind
director of hyperlink circus search engine deity
speaking narcotic ambient gibberish tongues
actors playing the part of inmates in prison

a predatory grin watching a first day in prison
car salesman card shark killer swims in his lies
buying his way cold blooded snake for a tongue
the dollar on his collar marks out the other
priest of wall street tithes derivates to his deity
ignores every prophet, especially the blind

because if the lights didn’t have eyes to blind
the mind might escape from its visual prison
reject Nielsen piety where the TV is the deity
seductive goddess medusa media its all a lie
the screen has three faces each an other
voyeur staring into your living room with a forked tongue

power enforced through the mother tongue
to all alternative expressions the state is blind
the law is a realm ruled by the other
webs of steel lock the spirit in a dark prison
the third head of Cerberus sleeping lies
before the gate of justice’s hall, state deity

we buy in, pay our tithes to each face of the deity
we learn to speak their brazen hyperlink tongue
we accept and do not laugh at our own lies
we put out our eyes because they say we are blind
we plug ourselves in willingly to virtual prison
we crave connection as we alienate all others