The Twinkle in a Moth’s Eye

As I walked outside this morn
I trained the high intensity flashlight
up the driveway that I trudge
each and every day.

I’m not too worried
about being ravished and what-not
on this dark jaunt up the gauntlet
through the disembodied sounds,
spider webs, and shadowy recesses
that flicker and writhe with the wind.

Not with my pack of hounds on the prowl and alert.

So when something the size of an orange
is seemingly tossed across the light’s arc,
to travel just outside its boundary
I was taken aback
and slowly pondered to a stop.

I crept up, swinging the light’s beam left to right.
There, on the ground about three feet ahead.
What is that?

It appeared to be moths in coitus.
Huh, never saw that one before.
And here I thought I was a nature lover.

I started to walk around them
when something caught my eye.
A small light, in the vicinity of said moths.

Oh good lord, I need to investigate.

I edged closer, closer still,
till I was standing right above them,
a hazy apparition
behind a light from up high
like some mythical being.

And there it was again, a twinkle.
Perhaps from one of the moth’s eye?

Then they both swung
their hairy little heads forward,
and I was pinned by two sets of feral beams.

It seems I may have taken a step
into a non-ordinary reality.
Let’s see how the rest of this day pans out.


First Published by: Aphelion
Publication Date – February 2019
Issue # – Issue 236, Volume 23
Link to my Poem

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Blood Drawn Wish

She speaks in seven tongues,
her eyes shadowed by sight,
red drops, that dew rich
with heart and treble,
is your gift and her implement,
clinging to aura as it
follows your query to ground.

Fingers speak in signs,
if only you could catch
their drift and flow,
messages meant to open doors,
those passages
to want and consequence.

Her throat is banded by divisions,
each a new connection,
each a separate phenomenon built.

And she carries marks to ward
and heighten those energies
that make up us both,
our path to ingress channeled,
our journey harbored and safe.

The void that boils
is her abode,
and when petitioned,
the birthplace of our stars
is where she will meet.

So take 3 steps to follow
and listen with meaning
to receive blunt trust.


First Published by: Quail Bell
Publication Date – 01/13/19
Link to my Poem

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Skeleton Key

At this instance
my static point is here,
outside my meta-verse,
here in this body,
fluid with matter
lucid and elusive,
pausing in this chair.

Here, my head rotates
round its nucleus
in three dimensions,
cilia reaching for
alien energy dreamt
of when pondering.

While time is running
in its spiral, ever
outward and near.
If I could only
stop drawing that path
aside I could fit this
key into tomorrow.

The heart in this
incarnation has fled,
replaced by a clone
appendage that was
slipped in when
the moon was waxing.

And my sight, well,
it as always envisions
all the aspects of me,
residing where ever
I began a life
living fully and aware.


First Published by: Shoreline of Infinity
Publication Date – Autumn 2018
Issue #13

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Inward and out
the spiral runs
too and deep, to
invert the forces
released by that
pinpoint of nucleus

The fissure is cleared
to birth an alliance,
not yet fused,
not yet realized,
not yet, discharged


First Published by: Shoreline of Infinity
Publication Date – Autumn 2018
Issue #13

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A Cardinal Accord


You can’t see
into my eyes,
but my familiar
will guide you
as we glide through
pace in tandem.

It, with roughened fur,
my outer persona.

I, with cowl-draped face,
its inner voice.

Two wholes composed of
twining halves, each resting
on the pivot of translation.

We speak from within
the same dreamtime,
spirits sharing,
though neither of us
fully corporeal.

And as you behold
its clear visage
held to my communion,
the only flesh of mine
on display has your
fate written between
etched callouses
connected to
digit and toe.

First Published by: Quail Bell
Publication Date – January 2, 2018
Link to my Poem

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Beneath the wash of a differing orb

I stand here, with the
house behind me, my car
and dog at attention,
children chasing pell-mell
and squealing down the street
between bumpers still
and mobile, my life as it should be,
always has been,
no mystery to be found here

But underneath the prism’s shine,
when I lift the mirage away from my bones,
there is another reality entirely,
one only I have imagined,
for it is a product of my twelfth house aspect

The moon hangs, sliced as thin
as an onion ring can possibly imagine itself,
starlight glistening through and out,
with jewels strung between cloud and star,
cosmic pinwheels and gravitational sweeps

The landscape upon which I step
is strewn with colors
not known to you mortals
swimming in sunshine,
they are subdued yet deep, fading away
to long ago wells of primordial waters
that lapped against simple cells
scrambling to inch above the shore

And I am not hindered
by your unshakable physics,
for I make up the rules
as I step along, the tint
of my thoughts complete


First Published by: Gyroscope Review
Publication Date – July 1, 2018
Issue # – ISSUE 18-3 SUMMER 2018

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Surrendering Perspective

The view before me,
of rising peaks, snow-bound
or ragged and brown,
the horizon filled left to right
with no end to the earth’s
curve in sight,
it sits, still as a breathe held
as condensation rises
towards a camouflaged sun.

I wonder if I am even standing here,
belong in this spot, on this shore
of a becalmed lake,
for my image does not
overlay the greys and whites
as they step towards me
on ripples met by a lowering sky.

This grandeur has never
required a spectator,
the rays peeking through billowed air
as it marches cross this vista,
flawless and pure.

And surely I am just an after-thought,
a comma on this point
in a direction found
when the mind is emptied
and arrogance has fled before awe.


First Published by: Vox Poetica
Publication Date – June 13, 2018
Link to my Poem

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