Cassandra’s Lot

A poem about the world and on the folly of Man

Straw Man

Turn the toothless cogs
of your political ideals,
you won’t change my mind,
won’t change the soul of me.

Noah’s Flood

Weather warnings, in theory
predict a climate distemper;
a waterlogged hell on Earth
that no one will want to remember.

The Rain Comes, Once More

The rain comes as a buffeting,
darkened skies and thunder, by nature —

This Is Not Your Elysium

Name me a freedom that lives
via word-to-mouth, 
hand-to-cloud
that tethers to a belonging — 
like rows of…

Pride Is Not A Sin

Open Your Mind & Your Mouth This Month

The Luck Of White Cats

On this night, the rain 
has the consistency of sand -
flung and dispersed, as it were,
from some sub-astral distance.

Mórrígan

I can bathe, as a maiden,
under the cascade of your rage and sin;
steal the heart from your house.

What Was Done, What Is

The buzz of words dwindles, so gently
to a poisoned sweetness;
with the touch of bee-stung lips
upon the nape of…

When In Winter

I.
When radiance seeks the ground
and the raindrops cool,
thoughts will slide down
indigo trails;
to beat against the bow
of a…