Millstone

To err is human, to forgive divine

But I’m no god, no angel, and therefore

I’ll own the frail humanity that’s mine

Eschew forgiveness and admit that flaw

Amazing grace is offered, but you know

If what you did was part of His great plan

Then call on Him, for Him to mercy show,

For He’s amazing.  I am just a man.

A Light Motive

Old demons never die, they simply dim their flames

And decompose through all the crime scene stages

Righteous hatred stiffening in the rigor of history

Prodded and examined, Questioned and challenged,

The images of fire debated and heat’s meaning discussed.

Then decomposition sets in and infernal foulness

Mulches down in parody and meme's rich loam

And makes of slicing stamping real, a simple word

A name to slander any, every, thing disliked,

Dust, then, to dust in sleeping eyes and demons wake

Unnoticed and unjust they change their name and sing

The same old songs, bright torchlit rallies seen anew

Men in rows, coloured spectacles where e-books burn

And the old fire kindles and liberty turns to face

The dawn with open, readied, leveled arms.

Jody Call

Drumbeats tonight and every night

Distant enough that you can lie to yourself

That it’s within you

Hypertense blood fleeing the pounding rhythm

Corpuscular refugees surge and rest, surge and rest,

Fading, flagging, carried in the current panic

Until depleted coming round again, again, again

To the drump, drump, drump

Of the remorseless heart and its everlong cadence,

Drum of the body politic, marking days gone and going

Bye, Koo.

Counting syllables

Does not make a haiku, pal

There's much more to them.

An exposition in verse of conditions, both meterological and biological, experienced during a daily commute from home to work.

Inside fire, and mist outside

Unpleasant, lengthy, morning ride