Make your own free website on

Below is my Canto

start page.


Early on our life’s journey, but for me

What seems near the end, I stumbled.  Among tangled trails

The descriptions of which chills me frozen, adrift in briny sea


And thrashing in dark with eyes closed

Against the crack of a rocky, hostile shore.  I felt like

Dante, gone beyond now, in his peace, trialed


Tested, then fulfilled.  Me, thick in tangle but with

A hope’s light for a trail walked before, all the way

Down and up, so a smile, beneath tears, masking a weather


Of fear: I kept a sharp eye in search of my guide

Though heaviness slumbered on my brow.  I shook dew

From plastered hair.  Over a branch I pressed my legs for the other side


Where the shock seemed thinner but bushes, like nets, with grips

Of grabbing bramble; while beyond, through and above

Grey and rolling clouds, with green shades, a break of gaps


Of warm light that made dry the wet of me, shone.  The Fear

That at night soaked me through, burned now, away, rising

Off me like my shade departing; called there, to the sphere


By mighty Powers.  Behind and below me now, the raw

Menace shrank, cowering and curling on itself to find

It’s own coiling gloom.  Over this last branch I strove


To now rest myself in the dapple light, for a moment

I pleasured; so then to start again, along the mountain side

Stumbling in uneasiness because of the rough slanting bent.


And suddenly – A Scorpion, felt through frost

Curled, balled up, glowing phosphorus, at the joint

Shoulder and head attach sinewy muscle.  Desert


Cold crowding its poison pressing the warm

While I crouch, frightened, at the scrape, like shrapnel

Against metal stars; dim, blinking, and flickering with


Distant Thunder’s rumble.  I brushed her off to

Turn back on the trail once again but black beetle bugs

Crunched and cracked, caking, under tan boots, stopping time


For eight months, at dawn of this last decade…  I smiled

Now at Wayfarers, the site of Young Lions, The Growth of the Soil

And the taste of chipped teeth.  But then, fear spun me blind


With sand in my eyes, browning the air, all-atremble.

Then a dead foot, still farther, on a living man as well, purple

With rot, the skin sloughing with most terrible


Acid, buckling my sinuses and clogging my head

In allergic despondencies; I lost hope of the light.   

Like someone sure of his wisdom, instead


Of Despairs, but now stifled by the odorous soup of rotting at

The foot of his farther, so I felt in my rushing heart

As the stench turned me back the way I had come.  So I sat


When I reached the blocking branch I had climbed to

Contemplate again the thorny bush, now ripe with fruit, with root twisted

To trip the traveler.  Then before me my hoped for guide stood!


I cried in confusion: “Living now or dreadfully dead

From crowning heavens height or bitter hells depths, help me, a lost traveler

On my trail of tears, with no matter to the good or bad or instead


Of your intent.”  He replies: “ I was once born 

A man, lived a life but one day, woke a bug, then died.

I lived and suffered my safest days under my bed but


Before that, I too once sought the castle like graters gone before.  I spoke

With The Word once, from a phone in an inn, called for surveyor.

From a great distance I heard over hum of lines as from a far space


The tinkling musical mountains’ chimes of many children's’ laugh.

But you, why so glum at this struggle between

Light and dark?  You, walking in despair on my old paths…”


“Then are you Joseph K.?  The voice of letters that sung

The hymns of determined effort against amused indifference?”  I

Knew already the answer, so said: “I struggle, wrung


With the questions you made dance and cry and laugh.  I too

Cower under tables and cover, avoiding the milk and

Chocolate kicks of those who would sneer at uncertainty.  You


Are the despondent teacher, my hoped for guide, who shows the enigmatic

Path.  Who strives always for that unachievable

Wonder!  Make this spinning chaos a precious metric


Logic and lead me to what, post bug, now in the after, you’ve discovered.”

Said K. “For you to find your way from this feral place

Follow me…” He offered this gently, seeing my discomfort.


“The top you seek is the bottom of something

Much bigger while the swirl you fear is the Gnostismic

Ordering of something larger and more sinister


Still.  Look up, the shades, light as air, spinning in the light

Of heavenly bliss, so many there, with Dante and Beatrice at his

Side, his delicate jewel of heaven, a castle in sky’s height.


Like a bubble!  A painful opening indeed to be popped, to drown

In soapy film that splits the light and spangles, glorious

Brilliant color, that shifts though, tricking eyes with sound


And Floating beauty.  As luminous joy imprisons and binds

Above, with bars of light that blind, so night, at under, leave senses

Void and unfulfilled to wander.  But now look below, those tangled


Woods: I crawled and cried amongst that dark in my bug

Years and died a sticky death there as well.  My eyes

Crowded with muck and my insect throat choked with garbage sludge.


The roads have danger; therefore I judge it best you make choices

To follow me and I will be your guide

Away from here, down, up, and through the eternal places.


Our journey will take us below to the sorrow of angry

Souls night.  This pit of fear, of Hell, and war that makes men

Dream of a perfection of joyful order more sublime than sparkle airy


Radiance afloat in the sun: This dark, we shall first visit

Then to the plastic world and scratch ticket tuckers

These dwellers carry confidences that you and I may never get.


Ascending I’ll hold back, watching, giving your journey to Dante for

The taste of candy lulls me but for him only joy.

Those that dance in that jewel, I must admit, I fear.


Their strength lies in their dream and so makes it

Real.  If you go up feet first and by accidents pop the delicate

Orb, rest assured I’ll be waiting below to catch your spirit.


Up there is God’s Kingdome, His city, His seat of awe.

 Happy is the soul he welcomes into that intoxicating Realm!”

I: “Voice of enigma, please – by The God in that castle


In the circle in the sky – Take me where you

Will – In the yellow submarine, to below the thermal

Vents, to the first little life, in the sea of chaos, and through.



Then he set out, and I followed where he led, to survey the mysteries.



start page.