Who is The Demiurge?
A secondary deity..
not The All-creator
of The Universe
you now observe,
in truth..
But she was
the image
after which
so much of it
was fashioned..
The First Muse.

She was the soil
in which,
upon a time,
I planted
my first seed..
She was …

There is the quiet ticking
of a clock in earnest..
and then, there is
the loud and shameless..
trickling of sand.
But neither one of them
is Time, however..
merely its shadows
living in our head.

For, Time is not the moved..
it is the mover.
Time is The All-pervading …

Every good story
must come to
an end.
But do not cry
on that account,
dear friend.

Nobody likes a book
that drags on for too long..
Ain’t nobody got time
to listen
to a 30-minute song.
And if the play I wrote
would take a troupe
of seasoned …

My own favorites
are those
that make me cry
as I write.
For, as a poet
you don’t hear
a ping
when silent gold
is what you strike.
You merely feel
the tears roll down
your cheeks..
once the wells
of joyful sorrow
in your eyes
are overfilled.

It’s no great feat
to let a part of you
just die..
much harder
of an engineering
puzzle..
is returning
perished ones
to life.

My highest purpose
used to be
to push the boundary
of what is known.
Upon the darkest
of our ignorance..
I used to shed
a …

One does not simply
show up
to a masquerade
without a mask.
Which should I wear
today?
The Narcissist?
Or The Dark Empath?

Except, of course,
nobody thinks like that..
Reducing the complexities
of our relational reality
to labels such as this..
affects the way we act.

It makes us …

A system
that you cannot
fully comprehend..
is also one
that you would
struggle to control.
The One
where multiplicities
of simple elements..
give rise to a coherent
singularity.. The All.

With every grain
that falls upon a sandpile..
Their sum predictably
and linearly stacks.
But you cannot predict
which …

Ohh, Fellow Reaper..
Has our Harvest
not been bountiful
this year?
We crossed
our sickles
not by mere
coincidence..
that much is clear.
As blindly seeing ones,
we know full well
there’s no such thing.
We saw the thread
of fates that bound us..
in a blink.

And have …

Poor little sparrow..
Such relentless winds
are now blowing about..
Between her search
for food..
Her broken wing..
Her heart..
That’s overfilled
with doubt.

She’s struggling
to stay in flight..
as she is
pushed around
by all these strifes
from left to right.
There is no space,
no …

It’s hard to keep
your doubts
under control.
When, suddenly,
you find yourself
upon a boat..
amidst a storm.
And it is rocking,
wildly,
back and forth.
From sweetest
dreams..
To scariest
of horror shows.

But, truly, truly
are ye of
so little faith?
Just keep it
steady.
For …