breaking point (20170909)

i am a stained glass saint
and you are a high-pitched
tuning fork pressed against
my flattened multiple colors

you ring
i respond
with crack and shatter
fake gems from a pirate
souvenir shop scattered on
the floor

the red ones are my hearts
the blue ones whatever resolve
i kept in check

more hot lead
and patience
will be required

Poem 20150507

i saw a fire burning in the sea
in the sea
in the sea
and within the fire grew a tree
grew a tree
grew a tree
its leaves were flames
its fruits were gems
and one of these a diadem

i saw an angel upon the shore
upon the shore
upon the shore
and in its hand a sword it bore
sword it bore
sword it bore
the edges of the blade were eight
made by heaven’s mysterious art
and with the blade it pierced my heart

i saw a tiger in the night
in the night
in the night
its skin was dark but its stripes were bright
stripes were bright
stripes were bright
its mouth was filled, a froth of blood
its feet were hands like those of men
its eyes were ice, its breath a wind