Poetry Blogs (2013, Ritual)

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The Servant

There's a park near me where

You see beings on two legs with plastic bags

Who wait patiently on smaller beings

With four legs and a tail before

Bending down to retrieve

A pile of waste extruded from the latter and

Put it in their pocket or

Carry it with some ceremony to a nearby


If a Martian landed

What would it make of the

Ritual and

If so inclined,


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I push away the ending of the day


I push away the ending of the day


when I gaze in the mirror

cleaning my teeth

back and forth  

back and forth

repetitive motion, much like the day’s comings

and goings, 

a reflection of the darker side of boredom 


when the house feels not like a home,

so very still and empty of life,

I hear the cars passing on the freeway,

miles away,

while all is...

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Sacred Path

entry picture

Sacred Path


we walked the ancient path together

where ancestors had worn the land

into a waypoint to the barrow


carefully observing rituals and customs

under azure skies we stumbled on our way

across this land of Albion


the hops the wheat the barley

bowing heads in solemn recognition

of the passing of souls


as we walked we talked of many things


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afterlifebeliefburialdeathfriendshipgriefjourney of lifelossritual


The lights are dim,

The band plays loud,

The audience are the usual crowd.

There's John and Jim against the bar,

Commenting on the lead guitar.

Leanne sits with her best mate Sam,

Shouting over the music, how she loves her man.

Her man, Brad, is at another table,

Flirting with a lass named Mable.

Then Wobbly Bob staggers over the floor,

Empty glass in his hand as he o...

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Pure O

entry picture

Pure O


Light On

Light Off

Light On

Light Off

Go to the door



Switched off


Switched off

Go back to the door


Go out

Turn key

Turn away

Go back

To lock the door


Sit down

In car

Get out

To check

Locked door


Four pens

In line


Squared off

Did I Lock The D...

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anxietycompulsionOCDPure Oritual

The Cocoon

The curtains a cocoon

which I have outgrown

crushing me

though I dare not venture out

my wings maimed

by an internal eternity.


Some days they open

as the sunlight shines

and snow falls

yet it remains a parallel world

a door to an unfamiliar universe

remains locked.


Even inside plates pile up

like a porcelain possum

they pl...

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Temple of Fiddes

entry picture

Temple of Fiddes

An Invocation


In a trance, amid the heady fumes of burning laurel

Sage leaves flame, crackle, bend and twist upward

Down from the mountain top
And out of the field, flock to us now
Out of your sacred precincts, to your grove
Of elder trees, and your altars
Smoking with incense, dripping with honey

Where cold, whisp’ring water flows
Through t...

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entry picture

photo credit: Bill Cottman


There were no sardines

Until captured fish were labeled that

Entrapment / dismemberment

Gets embedded in knowledge

ImproviXation is necessary

Because rote of daily living

Is institutional

Acting as samurai

Often affords escape from

Captivity and sardine cans

Courage is culture

Memory of struggle lives in blood


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