Mythic Verse

Broken Veil


Life within this broken veil,

Where love and sorrow there travail,

Where leave the unheaved sigh of rest,

Slumbering in troubled breast.

A place where life's door unhinged,

Brings a sadness, draws a twinge.

Where pain and pleasure cloud the wine,

Intoxicating darkened mind.

And what should come within this earth?

Save the son, a soul's rebirth

Another excerpt from "Songs of Ignorance" an unpublished tome

Rumours of War

Troop movement under bitter stars.
Left flanking on brutal hills.
Heavy sniper fire,
The trees have eyes of spitting flame.
The stones are detonating,
Percussing like hoofbeats.
Four Horsemen ride by,
One follows me,
Without eyes.

Quietly,
Lest they hear,
Lest they find where we are hidden.
As darkness falls,
As twilight dies,
Stars attend the crescent moon.
Choreographed, 
Boots crunching,
Thunderbolts flash,
On invisible collars.
Muted cries punctuated,
By the staccato sound 
Of machine gun fire.
Long Knives gleam,
This endless night,
And daybreak erases,
The world that we knew.
I find the remote,
and turn off the 
Television,
Turn over to 
Sleep,
Facing the wall.
My eyes close,
As menacing shadows flicker,
Leeching from the crackling
Cathode-Ray tube.
As it slowly ceases glowing,
I hear the sound of crunching glass,
beneath heavy boots,
in dreams.

Cassandra spoke,
Barefoot on the chill marble floor,
I did not hear,
Though I had come to listen,  
I did not understand, 
For upon her proclamation, 
I did not want to know.
To perish by Achilles' spear 
Upon the bridge of Troy 
And Pallas feigning Deiphobus form. 
Betrayed by the gods to pay 
The duty for the crimes of Troy.
I walk away empty of dreams, 
My future a green mound 
Beyond the tiered walls of Troy.

Winning is nothing
Hollow victorys signed in blood
Homecoming is this


Beneath smokes of war
Upon every battlefield
Some flower still blooms


War is the final
Externalization of
Conflict in mens souls

Trinity Sonnets

ARMS

Strong arms bear me high above the earth,
Arms resilient with the passing of time.
Wooden arms, part of my own creation,
Conducting me to my forsaken home.

Alas, crossed arms, you carry me unto my death.  
I breathe my last in your iron grasp.
You consume my flesh and drink my blood,
Yet you are just the first of the multitude.

Ah, a passion play, yet mine is the first,
But there shall be no bows save those of death, 
And dying. Oh to drift peacefully to sleep,
Yet these arms hold me fast.  Henceforth,

Adored, I hang embrazened, forever,
Bleeding upon these everlasting arms.





Lo my son is a dead and buried seed
Dropped into the earth-womb to be reborn,
A figure in medieval papist creed,
A call to war on crimson colored morns.

Now cold he lies beneath that ancient stone
A kernel planted in the fertile soil
Of Palestine, the prize of every Rome,
From whom each tyrant claims his title royal.

And yet my pride is certain satisfied,
For as I live, he lived, as good and true
As I could want, and as he died, I died
And with him, buried by that ragged crew.

My seed is growing deep beneath the earth,
In catacombs, the humble give me birth.





Saint John

I write you, that you might believe that I
Saw Him, as his wrists were impaled with those
Kisses of iron, which the Roman guard
Bestowed on Him.  I saw Him lifted up in pain.

Disgrace - no glory - naked, cold, alone.
Eyes bulging, his breath faltered as he drew
Painful gasps.  Retching fitfully, He shook
Like a puppet suspended from a stick.

No man's death is a glorious occurrence,
Until the years yield their mystical hues
Of marble and gold, Gregorian chants
That fill bare monastery walls with sound.

He died as any criminal, in shame,
How shall those to come remember His name?

These 14 liners, of which only the centerpeice is actually anything
approaching an Elizabethian Sonnet, were written over a period of 10 years.
The idea for Arms and Saint John and the triune presentation
came to me in 1976, and the dramatic writing was done then, but was put into
verse in 1984. Lo, My Son came all on its own, rhyme, meter, and
content while trying to make a deadline for an upper level undergraduate
writing course in 1985.

It took a little crafting, but for the most part it was spontainious.
It seemed right to package them together, as they present
three personal views of the Passion of Christ. Saint John, at the
feet of his dying Master must have wondered what would happen next, and
how history might remember the Master he so dearly loved. I tried to present
a more human view of Christ in Arms, while preserving the diefic in
allusions to foreknowledge.

My professor was more taken with Saint John for
its dramatic quality, however, the sonnet has always been my favorite.
First, because writing one is an accomplishment to me, and second because
in a way it seemed a gift to me, and a tying together of many threads woven
over a decade. I hope they are inspirational to someone other than myself,
but if not, writing them did some good within me.

T. Buckner

My life is one of darkness,
While your's is one of day.
My night is full of stars,
Your morn the sun's bright ray.

I live in misty moonlight
Upon the mountain tall,
While you reside in sunshine,
And walk the sun king's halls.

The moon, she is my lamp,
While your light is the sun.
I walk in forests damp,
While in day-fields you run.

I have my staff for comfort, 
A raven and my book.
You have wild roses,
And the sun on summer brooks.

My season is the autumn, 
And your time is the spring.
I steal the ramient of the trees.
While in due time you bring.

I pray to keep my freedom,
While you live but to serve.
I love you, though you know it not,
For I've never said a word.

I reside in tomorrow's dream, 
And in the darkest night.
I dwell in sunlight's vibrant stream
And in the candle bright.

I thrive in the hearts of men,
And in the mind of God.
Existing in all vital planes,
And in those far beyond.

I brave the storm, and bear the lash,
I connect the future to the past.
I open doors where none were seen, 
I travel roads where few have been.

I've never left Pandora's room.
I am the rose that ever blooms.
I do not fade, I'll not grow old, 
I am the force that none can hold.

I live as long as life remains,
For I am Hope. I do not change

Organic intelligence,
blank slates hungry
for thought.
blank walls
Waiting impatiently for the graffiti of life
		Blank			New
or merely Erased			Like chalkboards
in some whitewashed classroom in PS 129.
					Chalkdust clinging to
the blackboard - never blank
						just displaced
rearranged				perhaps forgotten

					perhaps not

Blasted particles of ancestral memory
					dust on roman sandals
						atomic fallout
from supernovae half a billion light years distant

					Talcum powder
Sea salt		and			grandfathers ashes

Adhere to all those empty slates
				gathering dust until tomorrows
						lesson
					(in humility and pain)
Waiting until Friday when the cleaning crew 
		washes them down
					leaving nothing
but a fine microscopic film of dust
				on the empty board.

Astronomical
Light years, Quasars, Neutron Stars
Islands in the Sky

Archaeology
Footprints in concrete sidewalks
Are future fossils

Hearts are rose petals
Those bruised and torn release 
The sweetest fragrance

Equatorial rain forests' sweltering heat
Causes beads of sweat to condense,
Like dew upon the veldt grass.
Tangled vines, foliage and sky intertwine,
As fevered lovers, touching, meet.

Sky of ink, blistered with light,
Stars parading across the heavens as
Nomads upon a darkened desert-
Exerting their distant forces,
Minute gravitation upon our watery souls, 
As they call us to wonder in the new moon night

Sighs of nocturnal birds of prey,
Their iron talons tear the darkness
With the fearful cries of the doomed.
Devouring the morning with the ravenous hunger
Of carnivorous kind, they soon abandon the bloody 
Remains for the scavengers which rule the day.

Dust storms blow from the desert at noon,
Laying waste to foliage and vine - the sacred
Storehouses of the sun,
Enraging those that press the wine,
For lovers struggling beneath the moon.

Around the sun our earth revolves,
But theology is so involved -
They tell us that our truths are lies,
Power can blind even wise mens' eyes

They lock us up in iron chains,
All we who think, and try our wings,
They kill us on their altars bare
Murdered for traditions care.

Those who struggle against the trend 
Of accepted ideas are forced to bend
Or break, for traditions sake,
Thoughts are suffocated without debate.

Alas, so opposed to change is mankind,
That in God's name, they murder minds.

Connection between abstraction and reality, 
Diverse circuitry of rational being,
Basic component of all we encompass,
The essence of mental awakening.

Mediator of soul and mind,
Transcriber of complex chemical codes
Which are etched upon the spiralling
Towers of genetic composition.

Pathway
Upon which the multitudes within us,
Send their diverse wills,
To be debated in our cosmic consciousness.

Slice of time,
Toasted bread, 
Burned in the fires 
Of future shock

A wave of confusion 
Eats at the sand,
On a solitary beach
Near Odessa.

Unspoken,
Dreams of shade,
Darkened figments of imagined time,
Where the future takes root
In the unconscious present line.

Tommorows rage
Boils in Stygian heat,
In the secret hearts
Of yesterdays pain
And this evenings nightmare -

Rats eat holes in your walls
'Cause they can't use circular saws.

Another excerpt form "Songs of Ignorance"
an unpublished tome
'Bill Blake wrote Songs of Innocence
and Songs of Experience
I felt the trilogy needed completion
therefore I have constructed
"Songs of Ignorance"
for those of us that now know enough
to realize we know nothing at all.'
TDB
Songs was begun sometime in the
mid 1980's
and remains incomplete because 
the author claims that there are
so many more things of which
he is completely ignorant!

The Lunacy of Knowing

Do you know?			I'd tell you if I did

				Does it matter?
This time next century
					no one will remember 
our names		or job titles	and if they did

would it really matter 				to you	

			would it make it all worthwhile when

			the past devours the present
 
as soon as your back is turned	

               regurgitating the future from the

			     cast-offs of yesterday?


			Would it make the grave 

a little cosier		or the fire a little cooler	

or the void any less empty

			or add anything to the abundance 
			    of the indivisible universe?

		Life is a raindrop in its momentary voyage
			   toward reabsorbtion -

		Cyclicly reaffirming the lunacy of knowing.

I live in a place they once called Paradise,
It was beautiful, so very nice,
Trees and streams,
Farms and dreams.

Then someone said "financial opportunity",
Codewords for the downfall of community,
We'll all get rich, bring in the big machinery,
Tear down the mountains and the scenery,
Move rocks and streams,
Level hills and dreams.

Now they're ripping out the beechwood glens,
Replacing them with condominiums,
No trees are seen,
No place to dream.

Advent of the twenty-first century,
Progress and money are the gods of greed,
Tearing down nature and history,
Replaced with jiffy-lubes and eaterys,
Asphalt machines,
Dairy Queens.

Well, I guess I'm gonna have to leave,
Find another place where I can breathe,
Until they find that haven too,
Destroying is all they know to do.
Realtor schemes,
Developer dreams.

One day when they've used it all,
Sometime when nature is under thrall,
They'll need something to stop the plague,
And realize that it's all been paved.
Then weeds and vines,
Devour power lines.
Forest and streams,
Encroach on realtor dreams.

Missing you at midnight
Staring at the moon's bright face
How I long to see you 
I long for your embrace

Your light touch like a feather
Your form wrapped in moonlit lace
Your face as bright as starshine
My hand desires to trace

My heart is like a river
Seeking passage to the sea
Yearning for our meeting
True lovers destiny

Missing you at midnight
My stormy soul has flown to thee
You are the grail I've sought for
Throughout all history

A hundred magic lifetimes
A thousand desperate stands
My soul has toiled through them
Seeking  you in distant lands

And my soul has finally found you
And it can no longer be
Absent from your presence
For your love's the heart of me

And your love is like a river 
Flowing through the dry lands of my soul

Accelerated Beings
Navigating Rivers of Stone
Velocitized into Oblivion
Chopped and broken waves of Asphalt
Remain

Astronomical
Light years, Quasars, Neutron Stars
Islands in the Sky


***********

Archaeology
Footprints in concrete sidewalks
Are future fossils


***********

Hearts are rose petals
Those bruised and torn release
The sweetest fragrance



***********

New SciFaikus
copywrite 1999

Extinction Event
Evicted from Cometary Halo 
Collision Imminent


***********

Database Grows Sentient
Privacy Annihilated
No Refuge for Freedom


***********

Jovan Collisions
Ripples Through Hurricanes
Pebbles Tossed in a Distant Sea


***********

Distant Explosions
Comets, Nebulae, Supernova
Starry Omens to Ponder


***********

Astrological
Attracting Watery Souls
Minute Gravitation 


***********

Stony Pharoahs Gaze
Desolate Giza Plateau
Centuries of Sand


***********

a plethora of 
languages initiates 
Babel confusion


***********

Iron plow, crusty soil
Revealing rivers of stones
Our valley grows rocks


***********

Non system disk type
Alert spells taps for hard drive
Rejoining real world

Ariana Cycle

The following poems are part of the Ariana Cycle,
written between 8/94 and 10/94. The cycle is 26 poems...
these are the best.

On the Wires

We reach out with aetheral arms of longing
Clasping but a moment in time and then away
The wires that connect us 
So far away, so far away.

My heart  since dwells upon the wires
Now golden wires of fire
The wind sings through them somewhere
In symphonies of ecstasy 
And sonatas of desire.

And though the miles are many
Dark and moist with dew
The moon, she shines on both of us
And leads me home to you
Across the wires
Miles of sound

And so soft the night, my love
Warm breath upon your shoulder
Like leaves down the back of autumn
Soft fire and home
Upon the wires

***********

Missing You at Midnight

Missing you at midnight
Staring at the moon's bright face
How I long to see you 
I long for your embrace

Your light touch like a feather
Your form wrapped in moonlit lace
Your face as bright as starshine
My hand desires to trace

My heart is like a river
Seeking passage to the sea
Yearning for our meeting
True lovers destiny

Missing you at midnight
My stormy soul has flown to thee
You are the grail I've sought for
Throughout all history

A hundred magic lifetimes
A thousand desperate stands
My soul has toiled through them
Seeking  you in distant lands

And my soul has finally found you
And it can no longer be
Absent from your presence
For your love's the heart of me

And your love is like a river 
Flowing through the dry lands of my soul

this song was begun in 1976 and shelved for 18 years...completed 10/94.

***********

Beneath the Wires

The morning sun breaks the sky,
Prisms of  scarlet  fire,
The road so long and lonely,
The pavement hard and dusty,
Blue and misty distance,
Beneath the wires.

All alone yet destiny whispers softly,
Sighing with the voice 
I'll walk many broken miles to hear,
Smiling with the lips
I've spent many lonely nights
To touch with mine.

Evening comes,
The melody of your voice remembered,
Crickets softly chirping
Between the lines of my imagination,
The highway softly illuminated,
By stars that shine with the lustre of your eyes.

The song's the same,
The harmony only half-remembered,
Tune timed by the beating of our hearts,
And my footsteps on the road.

Following the wires,
To a destination long awaited.
Hidden somewhere in the dark and distant hills,
That lie on the edges of my dreams,
In the land of my imagination.

***********

Wait for me...
We've waited so long already,
Or have the days been magnified to years,
Beneath the lens of distance and desire?
Yet have we not always danced, 
Down through the ages,
Incarnations of our love,
That have no beginning
And cannot ever have an end.
And so we wait,
For fate to pull us back together.
That we may dance,
Our enchantments together,
For yet another lifetime,
Paradise in your eyes.
The room breathes a soft brilliance of candlelight
Full moon shines through beveled panes
Crystalline in her silvery essence
Graciously presiding over the evening
Of all our tomorrows

Crickets sing their symphonies 
While we match their rhythms 
With wilder harmonies of our own
Counterpoint to our shared heartbeats
The melody of united souls

Your shoulder soft as the petals
Of the white roses on the nightstand
Your eyes more brilliant than the moon
Your skin the color of snow touched 
By the crimson sunrise

Whispering our love
Into each others waiting lips
Our passion beyond the circle of the world
Beyond the dance, beyond time
Beyond knowing
There are no words for love
In the soul
There is only its being

***********

My love, my thoughts are all of you.
Of time to spend like precious pennies,
Upon fevered nights together,
Having spent desperate years apart.
Of walks and sparkling afternoons,
Passionate sunsets, daydreams of dawn.

The moon dares touch your face,
As you lie dreaming on your pillow,
Your face calm with sleep,
Your hair in marvelous disarray,
Framing your face
With pale gold,
Your hand folded within mine.
The quiet rhythm of your breathing,
The wind that stirs my heart.

My heart knows no other country
Than the world within your eyes,
My body has no home
But the shelter of your arms,
My spirit no flight
Without the whispered wings
Of your lips
Upon mine.

***********

The following is not really a poem, but it was very moving to write, and it , as with the previous poem coursed into being like a phoenix flashing from the flames...

Altars of the Heart

I pour out my love for you
As a libation to 
The gentleness of your spirit
The beauty of your thoughts
The silence of your understanding
The brilliance of your laughter
The love you offer me
Is priceless beyond
the treasuries of kings
Love 
is such a poor word
to describe the richness
of  emotion
varied and subtle
like fine wine
opened carefully
gently caressed with
lips of longing
until glasses wax empty
and spirits grow full
awaiting the next
drop of the elixir
from 
the unplumbed depths
of our hearts

***********

Autumn has arrived amidst a snowstorm of leaves
Carnival colored,  gypsy dancers in the winds
Slow ballet dancing goodbye to the summer sun
And greeting winterfinding, as harvest ends.

And here I wait for a late autumn eve,
When at last I shall fly west of the sun,
To hold you close, and surrender our hearts
Under a bright winter moon

Whirling, dancing, flying by my uplifted face
Gypsy leaves frolic in the breeze
Calling me to join the dance, with you
And accomplish the spells we weave

Together in the autumn night
The moon soft upon your shoulder
Your lips softer upon mine
Dancing beneath the winter moon