May 30th, 2026: Four Mini-Poems, Arkteia, Goose, Fountain of Youth, and Snob Knob parts I and II

Four Small, Untitled Poems (Made on May 10th, 2026)

Bugs and Insects, Curious in Form,

I Wish for more of You to be Born


Devic Dragons, Ray of Light

Show these Plains your Roar and Might


In a Boat or on the Grass

Out there Someone Caught a Bass


A Doe Eats Fowers already Emptied

By Hummingbird Hawkmoths Great and Plenty


Arkteia (May 21st, 2026)

Whether forest, meadow or seaside cold,

All locales beckon with ancient voice bold,

Artemis, Goddess of the Grand Wilderness

Sends her girls to ease our first-world illness

Unseen yes, but on tireless duty

Playing the bear, they know about moody.


Goose (May 21st, 2026)

Strolling about at a leisurely pace,

By old oak trees and Victorian lace

I see the green house, where once lived a squirrel

Where I once became a firefly girl

Twelve years ago I did haunt a small room

Where feelings swam upward, closer to bloom

Very naive but with holy aegis

Poor before chaos, in a content place


Fountain of Youth (May 22nd, 2026)

A cute girl is what I wish to be

With a flirtatious, mischievous grin

A sweet destiny; this is no plea

To some I would look like living sin.


Although bearing an exhausted shell

Inside an elixir, great work brews

A little mistress, tempered by hell

Shall debut despite the worldly blues.


Slow-growing is this oh-so-sweet fruit

As it ripens, I look at some files

T-shirts and camis and skirts and boots

Feeling satisfied, my inner judge smiles.


Snob Knob, Part I (May 22nd, 2026)

Image-ining myself in a 90's park model

The kind with the translucent knobs, lush glass and a fan,

Dim inside, old but far from a destitute hovel

And in the corner greets me a scamp of a woman.


Welcome, friend, PBR's in the fridge. You look so beat.

Yes indeed, nectar rendered harmless but oh-so-sweet.

Then take happy respite, grab a can for this high heat.

This Summerland getaway is truly us girls' treat.


Even I know not who this spoony entity is

Perhaps a dear friend, destiny's cord tied in timespace....

Ones like us haunt these locations, for liminal bliss

I, in bloom'd rose body, uncovered mischievous face.


Snob Knob, Part II (May 22nd, 2026)

Where I once looked like a rowdy, puppy-dog boy

In this dim but cheery office of decades past

I return, strutting in, chunky platforms employ

Showing much ruddy skin, vigorous girl at last!


Arcade cabinets of various ages, at least fifteen

I'm quite an old being, but look scant more than a teen

Inside two pools of beize, outside one aquamarine

Extravagant joy not to be seen here as obscene!


By the old mini-golf course the two of us abscond

Around the wall; on pickled herring and wine to dine

Stumbling back, margaritas by the old pond

On a small bed we cuddle, under moonlight so fine!


May 29th, 2026: Trunked Collection Release (Including The Glitch, Flower Knight, Twilight Onyx, Oarfish, Fun at Work, and the delayed 2019 debut: The Judge)

The Judge (August 25, 2019)

In soul's recesses lies a fair judge

To cast her verdict, never to budge

To plead, to deny, shall never work

Seed of desire, magic flow, a smirk


Since my birth the sorcery did start

To creep its way down deep in my heart

The judge well understands what is best

I suck on her breast, her milk ingest

Some traits of hers I adopt in mind

Mixing with my independent kind

The incessant desire to transform

Into the fitting, snug, cozy, warm


I am well-versed in the ways of men

And grasp female beauty, therefore then

She imposes me to learn the means

To receive, create, and be, it seems

Petite, elegant, with lacy seams

As a proper girl my soul reform

In time soon the spirit's shell adorn

Flawless skin, plump-rumped, expanded hips

And of course a pair of fine-cocked lips

Told this may be folly by my peers

Not aware this feeling never veers


On my spirit's path I did endure

Great hardship she sent, to make mature

Horror, madness, eyes fixed upon death

I rise from the ashes, and catch my breath

I triumph above all, good sovereign

And awesome powers did I thus gain

Unbreaking peace, strength never to flinch

But the desire does not give an inch


'Tis ironic that I must accept

The yearning, instead of acquiesce

All are on a path to sublime bliss

But in each lies an innocent wish

Death is to be welcomed as rebirth

This lesson she taught is highly worth

My lady signals me now to wait

To know and savor my coming fate

Perhaps even in my current state


The Glitch (January 24th, 2020)

In such a dark cavern few think to find

A little hermit in silk intertwined

This girl and the mushrooms both shed teal light

Coming out often to stir the forces

Or to merely find desired resources

It is a sheer sight to witness this sprite

At least in full, but she always bears veil

Surmising most do not reckon the scale


My siblings own citadels great and small

Who may bear palisades of trapper forts

Or great gray ramparts who guard haughty courts

But come me they fall, every case in all

Where spearmen and archers both fail to breach

And even equipped to lay out a siege

But my very presence brings nothing short

Of phantoms who do not register walls

Or tremendous earthquakes no magus calls

Neglecting the sort, brittle stone is thwart

In bearing honey, no forecast attacks

They meander on, then start to find cracks

It is only the veil which I am clad

Which prevents being rendered gibbering mad


To shock and shake foundations kept so well

Can create for them a hell

So I stay in a shell

Dodging and bearing their chaotic upswells

Into the cave, cocoon, I bid farewell


Flower Knight (September 25th, 2025)

“Look who we have, ‘tis the good Gentleman!”

“We have here a bona fide knight errant!”

“A bonny fellow in true brotherhood!”

“I say praise is in order, that it would!”


Oh how great it is to do my duty

To console my brothers rendered moody

Moving possessions from home to a home

Exchanging the lore of Japan or Rome


Most know of my idiosyncrasies

A head grown full of roses and daisies

Some know of the room that fits a draper

Of cute gamines as dolls or on paper


I know what’s inside, that faith-infused will

But pronouncing has been boulder-up-hill

But ever it goes, my journey’s long road

Rounding me, making ever more cathode


And while every one shall see telltale sign

Brothers like this for now fit me just fine

“Sir, your meal, and we’ve held off on the wine.”


Oarfish (November 20th, 2025)

Days of trials, days of endings exposing unknown

In this morn mist play the Nereids and Poseidon

How they trekked so inland is not quite established

On faith alone did they leak in, like mystic fish?


The great question of our time, whether to control

Becomes forgotten this moment, whereas this pull

Magnetizes out from crevices, so obscure

To ionic med-ium, star in near span allures.


I becomes we, me becomes us, and mine ours

Nature and genius combine, unforeseen powers

Hush! Do you hear the good news whispered, louder now?

Electrons glisten off scales, gargantuan tail rows.

Even here, I can hear storms of great high seas blow.


Fun at Work (November 20th, 2025)

Amidst talk of worldly, manmade carnage

Wind carries news, a small, wispy message

Of the outer lands, growing blooms anew

Forests planted, oceans cleaned to deep blue.


The doom loops finally snap from orbit

Unable to more endure nor transmit

Once, yes, the core of nostalgia is felt

The reason our past so gingerly dealt.


What do you want? Hey, say, what do you want?

To be a princess, or a knight errant?

It matters not which, or what, even how

Just feel the flying sparks in your heart, now.

Hear the ancient echoes of calling resound.


Twilight Onyx (February 13, 2026)

Artificial face cracks, revealing flesh untanned

In Dim Dream, solitude, gentle storm onto rock

Without a compass, where go but inner badlands

Tracking russet tea essence, astringent aroma


A black-haired girl, biding her time my whole existence

Gleams a broad telepathic smile through undulations


Dark Yin blooms, next stage of maroon Oceantide’s Flower

Inner waves amplify, I become bouyant in air


Isles among temperate isles stretch out in the expanse


A watch fills with water, with the wily lore of plants

In photographic mist, pleats and boots, I twirl and prance


The Passage of the Giant Squid (April 4th, 2026)

HOW YOU SHUT YOURSELVES IN YOUR HAPPILY EVER AFTERS

AS I WAS STUCK IN NECROPOLEI, STAINED CRUDE ALABASTER


I MUST MOVE ON TO NEW OCEANS, BETWEEN CHOKMAH AND BINAH

WEARIED PILOT, COARSE BEARD, LYING PERSIAN BALLERINA!

TANNED, HOOKED NOSE, STRONG, SLENDER, EFFICIENT CURVES WITH SKIMPY GIRL'S DRESS


TO THE BALLROOM I FLY, TO FIND DIGGERS OF SOULS, GOOD GODS BLESS!


Exurbs (April 3rd, 2026: Good Friday)

In core of settlement has sadness dissolved

Unfounded chic, but now Science has resolved

On very same mountain as all other creeds

And dharmas marching those towards uncovered needs


Now reveal'd rich and able, and not much poor

As I feel grace and strength from those Yorkshire moors

On this day the Passion of Him taught us well

To shine light, yes, even come out the bluebell


Spectres rattle the electrified rafters

As millions are trained as witches and casters

What legacy yours will haunt us, death's after?

Whom to take apprentice, as ghostly master?


Mausoleum (Probably Early March 2026)

For certain this place has its own pace

Where people vanish without a trace

Where one might expect thumping Bibles

The dogs and cats, instead, are idols

Why we came is not always divulged

The potlucks each year less to indulge

Like fabric tattering off a gown

Methinks one day this place will sink down


Still such acting after all these years

Under rock masks amassed grief and fears


Refuge (November 18th, 2025)

As November weeps and our society ends,

With broken residences around every bend,

Uninviting lairs hold snapped bonds, dead on floors,

Becoming only translucent, background bores.


Then why, how, do I feel such hope beyond word?

In these conditions feeling wings like a bird?

Is this here the concept of closure at play?

Navigating life I found harbor to stay.


I don’t tell everyone, about the angels,

Knowing of some in clouds and others in holes.

Either way, people may find that oh so strange,

For after chaos how does hope rearrange?


But it does anyway by ultimate string,

Or light, love, any feeling high hope would bring.

While being sewn up, the great needle can sting.


Fajitas (November 6th, 2025)

Yin battles spiraled to total yin wars

Then yin victories to settle the scores

While the molé and fajita sizzled

On stone plates, by chips in queso drizzled

In restaurants full of yang brouhaha

While eggs and shrimp cooked a la Diabla


November blows in, bare trees and gray sky

The memory of college days gone by

When in those restaurants, lone abode too

I drank and dreamed, in mental comforts flew

I see some things as signs of the old past

Lights flood a field for a jolly yang clash


The past in the present, future ahead

With each day the gift of our daily bread

As we turn in, with tree leaves red, well fed


Magdalena, Queen of Roses (Samhain 2025)

Hail Magdalena, Queen of Roses

Lover of Yeshua, equal in His Eyes.

You, slandered and scorned mercilessly,

Looking down from the High Heavenly Planes

Towards the outcasts in misty cells.


Sweet lady in Red, we lie eager in wonder

Awaiting deep mysteries of yours

Whispered by the leaves.

Engulf us in your fragrances,

Plant and cultivate your flowers in our hearts,

For us to unfurl and awaken to our true light

After cascades of sorrows have been shed.


We ask this of you, Dear Spouse of Yeshua,

In the name of the Rose.


Amen


Throw off the Sheets (March 2nd, 2025)

A cool, sunny day

The usual stroll

Birds chirp on the way

Done hiding, warmth’s pull


Most common, this experience

Does not take from the feelings

The Oaks’ glory, Spring’s essence

The sprinkled seeds of teachings

Soon activated, little predicting

What will come of elder beings’ rose-argent string


Point (March 1st, 2025)

The point of a needle

Up and down by a swerving treadle

Eye of a hurricane

Calm in the yaw on a catalyst’s plane

A straight-line storm

Tugging the fabric, commanding the form


What deep-colored clothing shall thus be wrought?

Fitting contours superior than that such is bought?

And then to whom shall the lore be so taut?


Gates (February 17th, 2025)

Eastern whispers, Eastern tales

Wild, remote cliffs and vales

Magic pocket, magic spells

Pearlescent energy up-swells

Every dream and every word

Regarding it makes barrier blurred

Giddy laughter, mirth, sweet scent

Beauty, charm, empowerment

Mycorrhizal network made

Brush and ink and tea and jade

I say to those above, well-played


LAN (February 5th, 2025)

A long time ago, about 2009

In a relatively innocuous time

On a now-defunct merchandise website

A product that says “LAN Party!”, alright…

In those crazy, wholesome parties I’d been

Nerds most all and treated as friends

No alcohol, reefer or tobacco smoke

Just old consoles, RP and parroted in-jokes


As we left the places we’d played

We scattered to study further away

For a bit it seemed things would be steady

But we found out the hard way we weren’t much ready

Fourteen years since leaving the nest

From carefree chirping and lighthearted jest

Most held steadfast, others did not

Things taken for granted have seemed hard-fought

The parties, I remembered, so long ago

And “LAN”, with anemoia, I overflow


Such grand, granted, grandiose fun

In LAN parties once held, and for the most part done

Pizza, beer and red Mountain Dew

My fire and oceans, curiosity too

Well up in me, seeing smiles so true


Blogs, troves, videos and more

Of times when people’s joy so soared

Those silly people of great innovation

Would seem to give off an ideal sensation

And it all activates my womb of creation


Believing in spirit’s hearts such times stay real

Quite literally, despite being something to feel

Desiring to go both forward and backward

With the best it offers to a direction made third


Guess I’ve decided to become an even bigger nerd


Great River (February 2, 2025)

Sun-drenched or rain-drenched, cutting the wind

Mississippi was who grew my fins

Flowing into a mysterious gulf

I hope she is not taken advantage of

Maybe taking on other rivers’ burdens

I see her beauty, glistening currents

Swamp, cliff, forest, sands

In high skies I foresee shimmering bands

To unite again after a come-hither aria

Beyond mere past times nostalgia

It is clear, reality phantasmagoria