Dandies Ashore, Princesses on the Ship

The ocean in my blood sings everlasting,
Of seas and ships, princesses going abreast
Upon the crow's nest, ever first, and e'er outlasting
The waggish lads in castles contrasting
The ladies on their rising tide o'ercasting
Their prim and primy mates unfastening
Their breeches flapping wide ashore,
Who none would take for mates of theirs
Being foolish rogues and nothing more:
Abetting their petting amongst kiss and dares
Breathing their dandies whilst women implore
The mainsail open even as they bare
Their dalliances to the wind and tide
Enacting secret rites of spit and swear
Climaxing in desires to shoot and stride.
None hold the princesses still
For they fight where none may follow
No suitor may hope until
The ladies return from their lover's hollow
In a far away land of ocean green
Where dandies never are allowed to preen.

The sound of screaming fills the day

The sound of screaming fills the day

As a hundred thousand million stars

Explode

like shattered dreams

Crossing

the waking world.

Feel the earth

turning away,

Turning, turning, turning, turning

Into a clamoring mourning.

Keening starts

not in the diaphragm

or in the blood

or in the marrow,

but in the soul.

It reaches down

Down to the root

The root of roots--

Our heart of hearts

and thrumming there

Thrumming

the thread it finds;

It starts in low,

then it starts to grow.

A twinkle

in your eye

as the adage goes;

A penny

For your thoughts

as the saying goes

I’ll pay and pay and pay and pay

For what you hold

Inside your hold

What I wouldn’t give

Just to hold--

Oh no.

Too young, too young, too young, too young

to die:

A girl

who never was,

and never shall

Thanks

to you and yours--

Their silent, happy apathy

is deafening

to those with hearts to hear,

I cannot hold

this broken crust

of a world

and slip,

Slip away

from me

and my hard-won joys.

The lights are on,

but no one’s in the shop’

I polish stools and tables

for you and yours.

Awaiting the day

when the stars come out

And we can all laugh about it now,

Can’t we?

Won’t we?

Will we?

Shall we?

Could we?

Should we?

I know, I know, I know, I know,

“No one will ever love a quitter.”

Shameful to be

what you were always meant to hate

isn’t it?

Athena's a Wicked Little Imp, Trying Zeus' Patience till he falls on His Face

Athena.
Child princess of the mind
Whose mind?
Well, mine, I suppose.
Whose mind?
Well, yours, I suppose.
Now, that I think about it.
My mind?
Well, yes, I suppose.
In point of fact, it's yours.
Why?
Well now, I suppose,
All that I possess is yours.
There isn't a single thing
that I would keep from you.
My body is my mind:
My hair as it flecks my pate is mind;
My skin, as it bakes in heaven's ovens is mind;
My wealth, which is but little else but mind, is mind;
My teeth--for nibling, nails--for tickling,
My face--for petting, lips--for kissing,
My laugh--for joying, wit--for playing.
In sum and total allowance
Is all for you and you,
My daughter, my self, my dear, sweet girl.
Why?

Only children silence gods.

A Dedicatory, where this would have started if I wasn't so concerned with chronology

I think I see her in your eyes,
The daughter I would have had had.
She glows behind your flushing cheeks,
Your lustrous smile, your swelling tummy.
She is the hero I would write,
The dedication that I pen;
She hides behind every solitary line:
I think she is the best of me.
It is to her I dedicate my life;
She is the beauty of my soul:
The poem that I would write,
Her face that I would sketch,
Her story I would tell.
And yet she only lives inside me
Because you are too far away to tell.
Instead, enclose her in the words,
Make of them a little womb,
A nest for my baby bird
That I will happily defend
Until she is full grown
And then I say that I have lived
And then I say that I have loved.
I have loved.