Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.1924 “Another Off The List: Another On"

The hard part about having too much to do Is writing down a list The hardest part about writing down a list Is that it is one more thing to do On the newly formed list Of things to do Now there is one more thing to do DONE There is one less thing to do now On the long list of many things to do They are good things Careful, loving things Groceries, Dishes, Laundry, Sleep Taxes, Writing, Eating, Sleep Finding rest at end of day Finding words, to her, to say Getting out with strangers dare Knowing that the world doesn’t play fair There is so much left yet to do I wonder what comes next I wonder if you wonder too

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.24.24 “Morning Glories"

Change of schedules; habits Rituals – within rituals I look to the bed like a distant forlorn lover The wick burnt low of love Why am I not in that embrace What keeps me but myself From that doorway to tomorrow Am I afraid of the days to come? That I will prolong, even the moon Stop the inconstant moon in the sky Break a habit of waiting For a reason to rest

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.9.24 “True Love's Full Draw"

I need to stop falling in love Let me stride towards you with confidence And fear But onwards towards you with intention Building each red-string wrap of love Sorrow may come with soldier– marched in Rows upon phalanxes lines So too does arrow fly loose like arrows Pointed, not indirect in their direction Struck and springing blushed affection Love is not a stairwell down, nor wire tripped Not a pothole or puddle or slippery slope Love is an archer Strong armed and sturdy Loose the slings and arrows of misfortune For amidst their adversity is the labor of love Hammered with steel and sickled with harvest Make each reaction, to ever action let me succumb Greater and greater into that adoration, affectation That we call love I will make my love intentional, Multi-dimensional So that when soldiers of sorrow Sweep across my heart My aim will be steadfast and true Able to beat back the blue days A few days of silence for an evening of laughter Is all that I am after with someone sought after When the battle is over and clear sky approaches If the love was worth fighting for it shall endure A greater ascension Renewed with intention Will defy even gravity’s pace As the heart, will surely race

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.8.24 "Isle of Dawn"

Leave this city of ruin On wings and boats of light Pluck a star from the evening And let it steer you right Now all the mountains are worn Wearied to pebble and sand Is this the bright future imagined? Is this what our elders had planned? Here, this is not a place we can thrive in Survive in, or grow With this star, fallen –crestfallen– Through the darkness, will show This is an isle, worth all ire, of dawn Cresting: horizons, opportunity, hope Will these stars take us, far from our home Or will they lead us to green to snow? Towards heaven and ruin, we surely go How far from home will dreams shift and stray Perhaps safe and home, is where we should stay

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.6.24 "Retie or Retire these Severed Strings?"

Have I been a dutiful son? Was I a beautiful one? A font of joy and blood Forty days and nights, it flood Stigmata, stick-man hanging by a thread Echoing the words, bounced around in my head As I lay Dying some distant May Did I perform my filial duty Had I lived with grace and beauty Should I bother to heed such bloodied roles? The world a stage, a battle with many foes How much blood to bleed for apologies What’s left of me, after all of these…

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.3.24 “Resolute That The World Must Grow Kinder”

Every year I am asked to change To be better But I have been kind for countless years Why must I be the one to make the stars rearrange? It is not my year for resolution The world and those about Are overdue for kindness, they live without There is no grand and violent revolution How silly and little we seem celebrating Once more around the track we revolve Refusing, recycling, and re-using to evolve Happy birthday Gaia, Earth, towards tomorrow accelerating I am not Going to use my time and slipping sand Fueling fire, crooks, and stealing books with guarded hand My deeds may never change the world, as a cosmonaut Why not? Make a change worth counting Loose as it may be in my pocket Kept tight ‘round my nape in a locket Is an obstacle of the self, worth surmounting Why must wishes be for anything other than mundane? There is magic and wonder in the worlds kindness, that will remain Birthday wishes, each year I always give my best It is time for kindness to be learned and earned by all the rest

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.20.24 “Paper Trails"

The Law only ever serves The Capitol And the Law only ever serves The Capital I learned as a child in the Alphabet Song A before O, but somehow this seems wrong They say in triplicate, in houses two and branches three Balance the blind scales and ruling might, oh, Land of Free Where the Price is (not) Right, but there’s one for everything How many servants to the public Left, or Right wing? Once a child would look for songs and be sued Tallying the cell-days they’ve accrued Only for Brokers and Investors to whine That the world isn’t fair, “What’s mine is mine and yours is mine!” What use is a system with one singular pursuit With Constituents begging to not be refute Businesses demanding for the use of our history Tailor-made adverts, machine-learned; no mystery The Capitol follows The Capital No matter how costly the flaw The Capital cares not for The Law In the future that they have foresaw

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.28.24 "LOVELESS"

Soldier on dreamer, the sky, you will see someday A single cloud to rest beneath, for you are beloved Blue skies hold only joy, in the coming dawn-winged dove Fallen, like city tiles or angels, Where now will you fly away? Fluttering wings of day and night, above the dreamer walking Whose fate is held in promised burdened hands Monsters are roaming in man and beast, in cities and fields across the land Is there a hero beloved by one? Someone? Anyone? Even in the making Head up, dreamer, pride may be the fall, as was for so many wingéd From the rivers to the streams Restless is the wanderer who nightly dreams Such godly gifts are these to carry ahead Tomorrow’s dreams may shatter the soul, Pluck pride like stripped wings Over these sorrows, whose voice sings? Clouds weep and wail, for flowers’ joyous toll The waves of heart and mind flux and flow In salvation or slumber, corrupted by journey’s end The tortures endured, saved by tormenting nightmares by a friend Broken winged are we, hold fast together we might fly, and go When dreams are loosed like arrows from divine bows Divining and dividing fates Will honor or dreams or love be what awaits? When old friends become old foes Surely in silence the wind will leave ripples on the water With lofty dreams, ambitions, hope, and other terrible passions Worn to hide our truthful eyes, in plainest fashions Bring to life such desires, barren from slaughter As the wings surely fly So the quiet silver dew whispers of morning Dreamer, oh, Soldier, nothing shall cease the sun, you, from returning Plead, do not make of thou this sacrifice, to spare us pained goodbye The storm will end with tufted clouds and blue shining in the eyes A hope --nay-- promise fluttered with fallen feathers, a loved sunrise

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.16.24 “Beat Upon My Breast"

Devour me oh, love of life pursued When longing life to have and use When sword is sold for metal made to wed Like shackles that will bind me to my bed Should such a maw as love consume Let it be -ated and the life resume What sweet succored, suckered pain Do we depose to seek love plain Blind fools we are, oh lovers, we With visions true, eyes do oft flee With lovers hand and killers word No pleading bargains shall be heard Oh, night, beneath thy chaliced moon Grant gentle love so great to bring to ruin With tooth and nail and bone and blood and life From lovers anguish cease such aching strife

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.26.24 "Burgeoned-Burgundy Moon"

Quiet beasts of the night Prowlers of the Hunter Moon Garbed in your furs and your blacks and your whites Stripes streaked with scarlet, with crimson blood rites Who sang the songs to name you with such fear Scholared madmen, pursuant of acclaim? Ignorant to the spectered shadow in the mirror Wipe their face, perplexed with trails of blood; How queer Victims of the city’s streets strewn red Pounding, pleading at the doors, party goers echo cheers, jeers Overhead the moon hangs low like the stalker’s head To what dark delights shall these roads lead Blood, through the streets, the streams, like veins Beaten from the heart of the city Badum-badum, daylight’s rise, who remains? Predator-prey, pray with those hands, bloodstains Gentle prowlers, howlers to the moon The street-beast-bloodied city’s yours With toothy maw and snarling grin, crackle and croon This dream has rotted from within - the dreamer waketh soon Beneath the hunter moon who else but hunters hunt For if the beastly-ghastly dream persists Who else but hunters is there to confront? When rash and bloody deeds are done and dripping from their teeth Hunters-Beasts — Exalt. Exeunt!

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.21.24 “Rainspotting"

Out past the grocery market Middle of the field Hoping for a lightning bolt – Zeus! Or is the rain alone the domain of Poseidon? Give me a mystery with less hesitation Not even the hostess can seat me Let alone greet me As they too are snobbily assessing the skies Give us a sprinkle or misting Something off of the menu couture A hale winter storm Full of sleet or of hail With the wind roaring loud as it wails Out of reach of my car My umbrella too far As the rain, spotted rain! Crashes down Not one single bolt Not a sizzle nor crack Seems to bless me On this chilly threshold Precipice to precipitation One so highly anticipated Galloping, galloping, I can’t err No mistake to be made in the rain It is plain that it's over too soon With a lion-dubbed roar With dinner and din Not a mist or a sprinkle or drizzle Just shy of deluge Not to greatly misuse As slowly it came How quickly it left Like a lover Or waiter – night’s end

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.12.24 “Midwest Madness"

Not every day will be noteworthy Not every day will bring joy Not every day will have success Not every day will see sun Not every day will be entered in to a journal Not every day will you remember– –how happy you are to have one

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.29.24 “Silly Semi-Decade Facade”

Banana lamma-o-Rama ding dong Carol let's will sing-song along Fumbling, thumbing the ring wrong Sized by eye Seismic lie Admit the truth, will or won't i If it fit and you had worn Checkbook too, and heart torn Coat check receipt, please, I'm leaving forlorn Hair; shorn short of opportunity, oh, lover Failing to eat, to meet expectations, so mother Mary, full of grace, for some other From shore to shining sea Over amber grass to ambergris You've mined my heart, leave the body be Coordinates uncoordinated, mediated not meditated Seeking consul or counselor, get myself medicated Wishing I would, wishing you won't, actions made are predicated Diamond in the rough Uncut, just as tough Ask the same, tone and pressure equals love

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.15.24 “Lockwood Lover"

Music box dancer ‘Round and around you go Performing – warming My heart, each wound-up click-start To my fits and tears will you give answer? Rain clatters, against the window As idle chatter Shattering the silence after your song hence Laments at the rest After the song, where does this feeling go? Tell me dancer, what care does a wolf have for a flower? In the storm shadowed sky Your pre-packaged song carves into my cheeks Wind me up, dancer-doll Spin me round, dancer, fall, new years’ midnight shower If I close my eyes, hands held aloft Might the rain be my partner Have just this dance, slowly stepping, turning Yearning for the wind and the rain to clasp Music box dancer, playing, dancing soft Goodbye, passerby Before you go, wind me up So that I might revolve once more Dance and sing and soak in the rain Replace the broken cracks and pain with a sigh

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.27.24 "Pick a Product and Pray"

This silica city, A basilica to The mighty, the few The rest kneeling at pew Praying for profits For gospel In hostel For little more than pity Dust kicked up From horse hooves and wagons Bags in the back Roped up rodeo Small town take town hall stocks Building up towers to technology Call to mass En masse All it takes is a shake A walk outside To make the Garden of Babylon Fall like Babel on, The kicked dust below Do you miss the rust The crust and decay? How long and far from death Have you lived? When last did you breathe And run And live

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Janus Estuaries Vol. 3, 1.11.24 “Midwest Madness"

A sickness grew within me Festering between my heart and lungs Every time it might be expelled I caught it before recitation, regurgitation Center of the country, heartland Homeland America and more than crops rot Hearts rot on the freeways Crosscountry, a place to pass by Not to be That sickness spread down streets Corners and capillaries Always caught in cul’de’sacs Always close to throwing up I am nauseous I read that after near-thirty Cells die faster than they regenerate That is the line in the sand, In our hand, life line When we begin to die Marked for death But I am sick, to death When it caught hold Cradling my feelings, my words It fatigues me faster than round-a-bouts I gave up waiting for it to pass Beneath the freeways of my organs From me, from my center-state home It could not be expelled and it could not be tolerated Enumerated or exonerated but persists Perhaps the coming year’s resolutions, revolutions Send cries of kindness in protest to the skies Hear the words, spit past blockade teeth Boiling words that waited throbbing deep How beautiful the world full of kindness Plucked like spring flowers Placed in cheap plastic vases It makes me, my home; sick

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