Who whets the razor
that cuts the thread..
Who holds the scissors
that nip a blooming rose
dead.
And are the blades that loom
above its bud
a veiled.. or empty threat?
Is it a bitter dream?
Or a sweet nightmare..
planted in the rose’s head?

The holy speaketh unto us..
But only through the veil
of the mundane.
But only as coincidence
detection.. in our brain.

It is a truth inaudible to most..
Insane to many others still.
Alas, ‘tis not thru ears of reason
that the elder gods make known
their sacred will…
But …

Upon the tallest summit
of a cliff..
Behind the stained glass
of a church..
For whom the bell tolls?
For him.. whose name
The Chorus
reverently calls.

The one who falls,
so recklessly,
from a dizzying height.
The one whose fire shines
so brilliant and bright..
against the dark
and …

Oh, great Orion..
I pray you tell me!
What is the hunter’s
innermost desire?
What is the spark
that lights a hunter’s fire?

Is it the tracking?
Or is it the chase?
Is it the time spent seeking
on an empty gut
for days?

Is it the arrow …

The story of our lives
continues self-rewriting..
So long as we are still alive,
until we’re split asunder,
we’re still gliding..
Along the edge of chaos..
Along the razor of a life.

It equilibrates
within some local minimum
but doesn’t end..
And then we’re climbing up …

Not every aching heart
we have the medicine to heal.
Because not every beating pulse
we find ourselves at liberty..
to truly feel.

When the touch of keen,
yet hesitant and gentle finger
senses naught but failed attempts..
at veiling
bitter resignation,
inner turmoil,
and pain..
The only ethical course …

For a one-eyed, blindly loving pirate
it’s either dryer than a desert
or wetter than the seven seas..
Either beset on either side
by lovely sirens..
Or begging for affection
from his one and only
loving mermaid
on his knees.

It’s so ironic..
maidens long the most for …

The Lovers’ Dialectic - Part II

Shall I compare you to a summer’s day?
Your sight to me holds all too much more sway.
What is a sunny day to summer nights?
Who hold me endlessly with comforting rites...
Is a summer’s day different between you and me?
How …

Ты есть зая..
Я есть волк..
Всё гоняюсь за тобой я..
но какой в погоне толк?
Если никогда тебя я не поймаю..
Всё задаюсь вопросом этаким я..
Всё не знаю.

Хороший зая..
давно уже не бегал бы
а сам ко мне пришёл..
И не боялся бы клыков моих..
Хоть я …

The Lovers’ Dialectic - Part I

What bridges the distance
between two souls..
What is the thread
that ties together
two entangled halves
of a separated whole?

To that end…
What does distance truly mean?
Is it space for contemplation…
or gap for misunderstanding?
is it perceived truth
or felt reality …