the roof of the world

a single thunderclap, out of nothing
an imbalance in knowledge
waveform collapse
a sunset, in my heart
told what to feel
back to the walled garden
the flash and the call
the monster behind the mask
Geography and History

keepers of old, lost knowledge
rolling thunder, in a roiling sky
Mithraic mysteries underground
unleashed when the Ice Age ended
breadcrumbs and hints throughout history
evolving along with viruses
a shout that echoes until there is silence
these feelings had to come from somewhere
the world had to stop for someone

a commitment to knowledge
AWP thunderclap
the power of the gods
1000-year old vampire
oracles and temples
the AI of the temple
the Answer is implicit in the Question
the present is just a thin film over history
heir of empires

before the smoke
rediscovered science, from ancient times
1000-year old supercomputer
frozen in the glaciers of the last Ice Age
the invention of symbolic thought
an echo boom across history
space telepaths
god of the sandstorm
the hierarchy of species

tales of ones who won and ones who lost
smile, like you used to
wear the thorns or wear the horns
allowed to feel your true feelings

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 7/09/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists.

frigid waters

if it had, or it hadn’t
if it did, or it didn’t
flat and flattened
a blank slate, from nowhere
the eight riders of Gemini
history is not a stale and dead enterprise
The gifts of wandering stars, and the magi
a soft, half merger for some dye businesses
a circuit, between emanations of light

what’s there and what isn’t
contradictions and doublespeak
living underground, and then finally seeing the sun
the floodgates are open, parting the Red Sea
the last terrible, bitter roots, are finally weeded
ground down and ground out
legends of the giants and djinn
paganism, and the ancient Amber Road
it did and it didn’t

out of basements, and primeval forests
the migration of Eurasians, off of the Steppe
prehistoric fire giants and volcanoes
hidden in the oldest part of Europe
spirits and cities – a world on the moon
thunderous Perun, Iupiter and Indra
there and not there
feel like an out-of-place alien, on earth
leftovers, from the future

Prometheus and the phoenix; light, and fire
the reemergence of real feelings
a great Angel, at the Edge, in the bright light
the secret of Central Asia and the Steppe
an inadequate ideology
warm sea and lush land
when the continents were in unusual places
a tranquil world, shrouded in falling rain
ellipses and uncertainty

put purpose into practice
not a watch, but a Band-Aid
peer over the edge, into a dark grove
it is and it isn’t

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 10/10/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved. All art, not from the author, belongs to the original artists.