“poetica”

from largest to smallest
you wrote, starting with
the cliches, as is
tradition – now the years
have gone long

and all you
write is dust

“Myself to Myself”

I sacrifice myself to myself
dedicate this falling blood,
filling wooden grooves,
to all I may or may not be.
Nine nights, moons, years,
any of these i’ll bleed
and burn for, if only
change will claim me
by the end of all things.

“Nauthiz”

Nauthiz

he thought he’d be gone for one long homeless year
but all time is unrelenting – tempests dragged him
from his driving course to depths he’d never dared
to dive before, but unseen hands demanded.

guideless he fell through forest overgrowth
pinned at a midpoint – dragged from the path
lost amongst a sea of snarling demon-fangs
seeking divine flesh to feast and live on.

birthed from stone and four elements emerged
a companion – one who’d once fought the heavens
imprisoned for defiance, headband-fettered
ready to fight for him, and for his redemption.

in the forests he found himself a friend unexpected
wise and unforgiven – a pagan brought up before God
could bring himself to care for his misaligned sons,
he knew the poems of a thousand worlds well.

from the courts came a third follower decked
in the brightest armour – a Knight of unrivalled purity
holding a sword stone-born with the ease afforded
one blessed with Arthur’s eternal patronage.

then stepped forward the three pledging service
to us all alone – trapped in this wilderness
we’ll stumble losing friends and lives
till only ourselves are left a-wondering.

no conjured man nor creature created
was enough – the demons of a lifetime
swept the Knight, the Poet, and the Monkey
aside like the paper wrought-words they were.

their sacrifice passed marked only
in our heads – they fell but helped
for falling, building the path
that we’ve yet to dare to tred.