Guid Grun Wastet

Bery yer ain deid,
For, oot o yer ghaist-fite mindin,
Ye trail up, yersel,
Lik some spookit gype.

Memorabilis

iris open and shut  | memory is written | click
an event | captured in time | in tablets of stone
remember | dead of night | when electricity ebbs
who can see | what eyes forget | mind out of time

All War Poets Now

We are all war poets now.

Screens where the fires are burning
Leak black smoke into rooms,
Curdling like smog around the heart.

A stench of revenge falls
Like ashes from the clouds of it.

Yule

In this dark December
Gloom comes in behind the dusk
Lingers at dawn with the day's rising.
Daylight, such as it is, stays winter-dim
As the sun scoops the horizon.

Snow and the cold that came with it
Fell like whispers from a lost mythology,
Legendary happenings in the wild forest.

This Train

This train…
I’m blowin’ and I'm chuggin’…
Chuggin’ and blowin’ like this train…
It’s the brake block moan I’m singing
The one note, two note tone I’m bringing
This black-heart, black-art bell I’m ringing.