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MORRIGAN'S SONG (for Cutter)

Posted by MoonCookee on July 31, 2013 at 6:35 PM Comments comments (0)



“Hel’s knell,” she knelt.

“Raise praise sweet spirits and rest my grief.

The streets past Elysian Fields, swinging;

The breeze bringing Big Chief, ghosts of music,

Sweet fury and sunligh...

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ASH WEDNESDAY

Posted by MoonCookee on February 13, 2013 at 6:30 PM Comments comments (3)


Five thirty dawn up here

Cold burger, piss hot beer

Worth it? I’d trade the earth

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THE BUTTERFLY KING AND THE GHOST OF THE WHITE STAG (2cnd annual Mardi Gras posting)

Posted by MoonCookee on February 5, 2013 at 5:25 PM Comments comments (5)



On chez of clover, tulip backed

As lilac’s breeze brushed Baby’s Breath

Endymion to his mistress cooed

“Goddess should I cease to love

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Berylaini Bastet Mystic Maid of Pi-Beset

Posted by MoonCookee on January 31, 2013 at 6:50 PM Comments comments (3)



“Is Faith the nadir; Fate the zenith,

We mid-heaven eye for God;

Will a butterscotch placebo,

Clanging zill in thrusts to dust

Never fare for intervention,

Clockwork desperate chattel’s lust,

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THE TWENTY SEVEN CLUB

Posted by MoonCookee on January 28, 2013 at 4:25 PM Comments comments (4)

Distressed a trilling chill with bristling leapt

From saddle up to nape and crowned with shock

On floundering feet as stable as a fold’s

I gathered in the set lush, greenish grey.

Obscenely clean, the grass, the rocks and trees

Laid still a...

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ONE HOWL WINDING

Posted by MoonCookee on January 27, 2013 at 3:00 PM Comments comments (4)

Reposed and cocked from sprint to peak

Where timbered bluffs won’t baffle shrill

A lupine cry twines through the sky

To catch Suraya like a kite.

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Friday the Seventeenth 6am

Posted by MoonCookee on January 27, 2013 at 2:45 PM Comments comments (2)

 

Suffer me cover from the dew

On brick pillows

In a blessed breath,

Just less than wet,

Of a Bywater break of dawn;



I’d take hot grits and coffee

And a...

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WHAT AM I (take 201)

Posted by MoonCookee on January 25, 2013 at 5:05 PM Comments comments (7)

Caesar cried;

Writhed in the sand slamming “Damn Its”

At a granite Alexander.

“26 his world was conquered!”

At 33 Caesar only...

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THEN

Posted by MoonCookee on January 24, 2013 at 2:05 PM Comments comments (6)

Hallowed, happy, hollow times

Paper eggshell smoothly lined

Around a burning bullet's lie




For what had meaning

Wasn’t matter a...

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THE MOJO

Posted by MoonCookee on January 23, 2013 at 10:25 PM Comments comments (5)

I held a raven’s gaze,

A hazy phrase of conscience pressed

In bending waves enveloped

Satin spun ruby fired reason

To lick against the lie of yo...

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