The Mass Market Epitaph

it is addressed thusly:
No whimper; perhaps a long groan.

it reads:
A slow decay, no quick demise
No wailing hail Mary from the skies
A loss of that, a lack of this
And then one day, death's cold kiss.



it is addressed thusly:
Vermilion, Crimson, Gules.

it reads:
This slow and low and fiery base
Of proud and loud and fury face
Bright for ripe and ready made
Striking loss of lifeblood bade.


The Condition

it is addressed thusly:
... he comes to us clad in all the careless terrors of nature; he is as strange as the stars, as reckless and indifferent as the rain.

it reads:
A far-fallen unlit lamp
Our outsider to inside camp
Fine finder of lost insides
Bringer bold of old bromides
Looking outward inward ward
Rusted racked sheath'ed sword
A night's eyes-wise wild one
Sight no shining but the sun
Twin won war which willed within
The double trouble subtle sin
Tell truth not but learn it yet
One with two or more the set
Sun come gone and twilight left
Flight-fight wight lie lightly weft
String unseen tween ghost and hull
Dead recover real reel or doll
Beast breast beats not brutish kept
Sigh of suffering worldly wept
Singer's sign swelled inside song
Dust and gust and tear oblong
Electric eclectic oft pathetic
Heat and meat and spark kinetic
An eye for eye that sees itself
Faerie mind and fire of elf
Left mark most as morning dew
Done kept mortal called curfew
Rest and motion, shade and thing
Action and passion, silence sing
Alone and home, idea and thought
Man and woman, fled and fought
Contradiction of two told things
Love and hate, hearse and wings
Do as you must, do as you can
But you will be done, for you are man.



it is addressed thusly:
Each Rome will have its Carthage; A lament.

it reads:
The time comes
Gentle ones
When your foot will set
Like a Roman general
To the land of the laidlow
To those you had brought
To submission;
And before you will be
A woman, almost ninth months
Who will beg you
Not to spare her
Or her child
But that the temple
Would not be destroyed
Would not be razed
Stone for stone
That the sacrifice might be made
So that her family
Might have food
And every word
You have spoken
Against violence
Against war
Against the harm of woman
Against the killing
Of the innocent
Will be wrecked in one stroke
As you realise
The very ground you stand on
She is beautiful
In her grasses and shrub
Rocks and hills
Grains, forests, streams
Groves and vines
Is all cursed;
All fed on the blood
Of a million children
And you will not see
The blow you land which
Turns brutality into mercy
For you will remember
Your soul will remember
Your wife, your child
His first words, his walking
And you, grey-tinged
Will see him a young man
And now again young
To the passion of grief
And you will not see
Anything but the glint of steel
And the fire of torches
The sound of carts
For the tears will blind you
And you too will salt and burn
Salt and burn
Until nothing will grow
Out of this cursed soil
And all is desolation.


Never We Ought

it is addressed thusly:
Firstlight the 22nd, Commemoration of the Slain Unborn.

it reads:
This Day we must remember
For it shall not be ere forgot
How many return to sender
How many are thusly caught?

The millions cried to prosper
The gods gave them a deal
Just a child to offer
To return the common-weal.

How many feared did this deed
How many were thusly caught
In dealing for poor man's seed
A better race without their lot.

But old Moloch has a hunger
An unkindness kind of a lust
Each mother he fain to find her
Eat all our cities to dust.

What kind of deal of the devil
Could this way ever be not
Forty-six millions lay in the level
Forty-six millions were thusly caught.

a postscript is here written:
a pass-word:

March for life 2010


Quite Flat

it is addressed thusly:
We may have nothing to hide, but is it because we have nothing worth keeping?

it reads:
All the things you know now
May soon be put on sale
Ev'ry wall full torn down
Level, every cliff and dale.


The Cake is a Lie

it is addressed thusly:
That which can be automated by definition does not require any judgment.

it reads:
They had ordained to switch me
With a layered cake
Baked and cooked and tasty
But makes your eyes to ache.

In it were not exactly
The normal sort of torte
But it thought so quickly
- fail, retry, abort?

Now this cake it was a
Peculiar kind of glass
A crystal ball unclearly
If o'er your hand does pass.

When it comes to thinking
There was never one so quick
Others, nodding, winking
Seeming now so thick!

But once the final stage had
Dreadful, come to pass
A word, a gesture so mad
About this thing of glass!

For all of the something
I was once employed to do;
Thrice as fast did nothing
This replaceable fondue!


The Flies and the Bees

it is addressed thusly:

it reads:
The fly is eater of the dead
And with flies begets disease
The bee loves beauty and it's said
Makes sweet and light for men and bees.

The fly is pest - and pestilence
But is rarely feared
The bee is a fierce and furry lance
Whose home is rarely neared!

The flies the rotten creatures clear
So leave them to their rot;
But keep the bee and keep her dear
But never at her swat.

a postscript is here written:
a pass-word:

orthodixie elder paisios bee



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
Our final ring of heaven seen
The seventh rest, a solemn home
Whose rings a listing hollow keen
Cut through shadow's darkling foam.

The resting day with wisdom mark
A sadness cool and even
Contemplation rising, still and stark
Long-gone rule, and what the reason?

Wander lone, in vale and hill
Cell and chamber thinking fill

So are Saturn's children.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
Our sixth is great and gracious
The ruler of the silver age
Full of fire and all-vivacious;
Almost a star, almost a sage!

Jacks of all trades and clever
Fifth-day purple for kings and men
Revelers now and jovial ever
Merciful laughter, helpers again!

These men of parties; all laughing knaves
Never lonely, all chiefs of braves

So are Jove's own children.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
The sphere which holds and guides them all
Is fifth among our stations;
The sun, that great and fiery ball
Golden lamp of revelations.

The last and first; of fools and kings
Upward seeking contemplation;
Of goodness pure beyond law brings
A singular complexion.

Alone to sit on mountains high
To be with all, for all are nigh

So are Sol's own children.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
Our second sphere, would you have guessed?
Is that star of morning;
Beloved above but all the rest
Lonesome hearts forlorning.

The day is sixth that we affix
A star-crossed day for certain
For love, compassion, beauty mix
Muse mistress behind the curtain!

Sociable souls for pair and fold;
Warm veil of morning, sanguine gold.

So are Venus' Children.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment

it reads:
And fourth we find a secret thing
Whose silvery quickness spills
The quickest of the earths on wing
This sphere his message fills

An ethereal thing to know
Whom by the fourth-day send
Still much is kept and writ below
A herald of the end!

They are unseen and found in pairs
Fair riders of the seas and airs

So are Mercur's children.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
The true third orb of our review
A red and silent watcher
A spear, a hint of blood bedew
This valiant mancatcher.

On this day we call the third
Of war and battle's emblem
Glinting steel, a shouted word
With courage we will win them!

Just as lone as he must be
Or in party proud and orderly

So are Mars' children.


Logoi / Names

it is addressed thusly:
It had become a glimmering girl /
With apple blossom in her hair /
Who called me by my name and ran /
And faded through the brightening air.

it reads:
What should it mean
That I have a name?
In a world of quantity
My name is so many letters long.
It was given to me
By my mother, my father;
It is in this or that tongue,
And someone first uttered it
In some age now unknown
It began.

This name that I have
Is it any different
Than a number? If I had
A number it would be
At least unique.

But then we find ourselves
In a daydream, a shadow
Of a vision; in which
We are waking because we heard
Distinctly; not like
The echo of the word
Which is in our head
But as though our ear
Picked up the sound
And that sound was
Our name.

But we are told
And assured (clearly)
That this is impossible;
How would we know it was
Our own?

But in that vision
The senses which are
Between the senses
Play a tingling note
As though we were
A magnet now pointing north;
And we know in our heart
That deep calls out to deep
That for a moment we were
Transfixed, held and drawn
By the calling
Of our name.



it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.

it reads:
The first sphere that comes in view
Is our night's reflector
A globe-in-globe of silver hue
In dark our dame director.

The angel's life is imaged there,
On second-day recall them;
And as servants, shields in air
Darts and stones, we stall them.

Of hunt and war against the wild;
A far and cold and lonely child.

So are Luna's children.


New Year

it is addressed thusly:
Though it is really, 5/4/7518EK

it reads:
Of new year, here, what can be said my dear?
We wend, again, amend a hope we send
Arears, fears, heavenly gears, beer;
and then where we begin; an end.

a postscript is here written:
a pass-word:

etos kosmou wikipedia