The Ring

From my poetic imagination in 1988 or so…


Just Fourteen Lines, but seven tens is all
I get! How can I speak my mind in there?
My heart of ever-singing joy is full
to overflowing. Why confine it thus?

Doth put within a garden mountains tall?
Within a sieve how can we hold the air?
and if I tried, you’d think my mind were dull.
But once I’ll try it if you say I must.

Give me the words and they with me will fall
to place; and shape my thoughts freeborn to fair
conforming. What meaning can you pull
from words constrain’d in walls by Dante truss’d?

I make my mark as hundred others do
and on these walls declare my love for you.

The First Sonnet

When for a thousand thousand years we’ve set
and watched the lives we lived go by, we will,
I think, see fit to laugh at them. Naive
as we are now I doubt we’d even try.

Step back and look at them. What all we get
for all we do; how we survive the kill
of arrows thrown by gods we won’t believe
who now above – without our faith – do fly.

An still we blunder blindly in their debt
for all the golden drinks we swill
sometimes to raise our hearts or them deceive
to hide them from the pains that make us cry.

And to the gods who give the pains we dare
can I give thanks for all the joys we share?

The Second Sonnet

Can I give thanks for all the joys we share
when I don’t know if they have come to you?
Have they within your heart created home
as they’ve within my soul become endeared?

I wonder if within your heart you care
about these things as deep within I do.
Dost relish snowy streets through which we roam
or do you feel indif’rent? This I’ve feared.

Do I waste my time or do I dare
to think that You, as I, enjoy us two?
Have we, together walking, this far come
to have from our dear futures such things cleared?

You must not toss these things aside. I pray
that you may feel the same as I some day.

The Third Sonnet

That you may feel the same as I some day;
I wouldn’t wish that on my furth’est friends.
Confusion, pain and indigestion, this
is all I feel whenever I see you.

I wonder always what I’ll have to say
that late you’ll stay, not bringing nights to ends.
I wish I’d be so brave, that I could kiss
your soul. But e’en to ask I can not do.

When I’m with you I want to run away
and thusly free me from this pain which sends
me crying. But to see you gives me bliss.
‘Twixt pain and joy I’ve lost all life but you.

God, free me from this wretched earthly frame;
Oh free me from great Eros’ evil game.

The Fourth Sonnet

Oh free me from great Eros’ evil game,
that I no longer seek the arrows gold
nor languish in the overflowing tears
from joy and sorrow, both the gifts of love.

Within th’eternal round of “what’s your name?”
I’m trapped as all are who are not so bold
that they can triumph o’re enduc’d fears
by reaching for the prize which leads above.

And yet, when by the rules I am made lame
(and to commercial culture have been sold)
by this from nothing freed I think tho’ts clear
and what I seek is not what they call Love.

By rules (and friends) I’ll never judge what’s shared
Between us there can grow a love ne’er dared.

The Fifth Sonnet

Between us there can grow a love ne’er dared
by angels nor by men; who with their rules
destroy all that in logic won’t abide
and cause to flee all not to them made clear.

In joinéd hearts, our own communion shared
two lives made one and never used by fools.
United thus, within ourselves we hide
remov’d from them. Thus we can face their fear.

And looking back how each for th’other cared
we’ll laugh at those who turned their loves to tools.
Thus we will leave this life: going side
by side, supernal choirs, or else to here.

But newer birth or rest from strife,
I with you will go from life to life.

The Sixth Sonnet

I with you will go from life to life
until all lives have come to ends and we
ourselves are left to mind the multiverse.
With myriad forms as Gods we’ll play alone.

It was our love that made us such: a knife
that cut us off from all and made us free.
And thus remov’d, lost, still gave us mirth:
Symphonic joy with only our two tones.

Alone, just us, with no sapienic strife
as Gods, we’ll cause – with songs – all worlds to be.
Then in our tune we’ll sing anew the earth:
For we, Divine as lovers need a home.

Thus even then, our love will not uplet
When for a thousand thousand years we’ve set.

Sonnet XVI: Harrow


Alone by Abraham he watching stands
And turns to John the Cousin as they smile
Isaiah grins at Moses laughing while
Judith and Esther wait in garland bands

Now righteous pagans rise to hear the trial
Lao tzu has joined him and Gautama too
The final stanzas of hells songs are through
And yawning gapes the maw of death most vile

As light breaks open hades darkened rue
And angels chaining demons part the throng
Comes Jesus here to one for whom he’s long
Been grieving. Joseph, Daddy, chaste and true

And riven hell releases hist’ry’s clans
As Son and Abba weep ore claspéd hands

Sonnet: Purgatio


I burn! To know the pangs of love. These flames,
That singe & bake, that sear & broil my soul
Are but the birth contractions: payment, toll.
For each of Love’s rejections living maims.

See these are not the chains from Marley’s hole
How dark & clanging hopeless Without End
But rather here my soul’s most comely Friend
In living light my wounded heart makes whole

That to that course my living will should bend
Which e’er she knew but never yet could take
& by these Flames is forged anew to slake
The burning passions which my life could end

Your prayers of Love quench not this Burning lake
They heat the forge my soul’s new lamp to make

Sonnet XV Good Friday. 3PM.

The darken’d Sun turns sharply to the West
The crying women now a muffl’d sound
The crowds still gaping silent stand around
The Roman circus ceases to molest

The body nearly now by life unbound
Unseen the Angels horror gathering now
Penultimate redemption’s dying bow
In spittle blood and urine stains the ground

Divinely plan’d this death he will endow
With life enclos’d in Jesus holy grasp
And univers’ly shared in dying gasp
Tho questing Faith sees not nor questions how

As Satan opens Hell For Heaven’s guest
The victor’s crying Consumatus Est!


This is my last sonnet for 2018… but more will come. There’s 16 more, I think, in the list for Holy Week.

Sonnet XIV Via Dolorosa

He’s walking, Jesus walking. Bloody stain
upon the ground. He’s falling, Jesus falls.
& up. He’s walking, falling. Soldier calls
St Simon out of Crowds to help attain

Golgotha’s lofty height. Once more he stalls
But rising rushes on the Masses’ need
To fill and bakers dough to bend and knead
fo serve beneath the cross that crushes all.

We’re walking people walking, souls to lead
Golgotha-ward to Jesus bleeding feet
it’s upwards still and onwards angels beat
their wings in glory as our souls we feed.

If Jesus cross our pathways do maintain
Like him for God our Ego’s greed is slain

Sonnet XIII Barabbas

Barabbas, Father’s Son, your story’s end
unknown your Genesis unsaid. You mark
at Jesus side the choice twixt life and stark
and nameless death. Are even you a friend?

You saw how Life Himself for you the Dark
Descending brav’d, the raving mob endur’d
the pillory the cross the spear assur’d
that you could freely fly from Pilate’s clark

and yet aren’t you by sacrifice allur’d
a bit? this quiet man who deathward goes
ne’er fending for himself nor pain nor woes
addressing. ‘Til at last your death is cur’d

and does a saintly name your story close
your name unwrit by holy waters’ flows?

Sonnet XII Lashing and Mocking

Crack Forty times & more the lashes sting
The flesh of God which breaded now we eat
is turned at pillory to bloody meat
as Roman biceps leaded whips make sing

Cut loose exhausted falle he at their feet
awaiting his awakening a game
the Romans play, arranging him the same
as Caesar Mock’d upon a bloody seat

In purple robes & thornèd crown his name
the very name of Love they jeer as hate
& truth Himself is by their lies made wait
his going to the last salvific game

but what for all the world seems cruel fate
is but divinely plotted switch & bait.

Sonnet XI Pilate

To Pilate sent to Herod then and back
A hot political potato pass’d
Unwantedly between them til at last
The cock crow raises dawn which secrets lack

To Pilate sent the final die to cast
Here Jesus stands awaiting human call
alignment with the will divine as all
Things will for those that won’t won’t last

To Pilate sent the Mater’s Plan won’t stall
he’s here at last confirm’d to death. & life
Can see its hope as demons join the strife
Mistak’d that God at last himself shall fall

This Criminal of Love at Dawn’s first crack
From Pilate sent for scourges’ lashing hack

Sonnet X – Friday Before Dawn

Come Brethren here in darkness let us meet
Transparency and light we can’t abide
The people’s sleeping dreams our secrets hide
this man will stand before our anger’s heat

Aside my friends here comes he now aside!
And say, Reb Jesus, what will you today?
Did not your words blaspheming bend and sway
to shake our people off the Torah’s hide?

Adjure you now I ‘fore these men! Display
if you Messiah be then manfully
declare it here where all may hear in the
be-custom’d way of you to clearly say

one word. If you but dare to claim his seat.
Are you the Christ? The high priest did repeat.

Sonnet IX – Peter

Now Peter, liar, rock, Apostle, friend
Here come I carefully to you: for pot
& kettle are both black. May we be not
by prayer that far each from the other’s end.

The Priceless One betray’d by campfire hot:
Your Galilean drawl just cant. Yet I
like you without a legal threat will try
To hide by options crafty, Christ forgot.

Dear Peter, threats make you our Christ belie.
and watching here in pity & with fear
We hear betrayal as the dawn grows near:
Despair not lest away you trod & die.

Lo e’en the very Church’s rock will bend
Until unfailing grace God to him send.