Delayed Introductions

Poem-a-Day Challenge #9 (Two for Tuesday): Love or Anti-Love Poem

We’ve never met
but you’ve changed us
you have made us
our love is
our hope is

I can’t wait to meet you.




The Art of Hanging On (Kloang)

Poem-a-Day Challenge #12: Art of __________

It’s not science     to keep
Holding; gravity     expends
All its energy      to pull
Down, experience     the fall in full.

Science calculates     friction,
Mass, height, inertia:     Your fate
Computed, vision      clearing.
Cold data awaits,     no help appearing.

Hanging on is art:      to see
Hope when all is bleak,     apart
From math, data. Be     stronger
With gifted love, thwart     gravity longer.


What is a Kloang?


One Day, Some Day

Those who sow in weeping,
their seed-tears heavying the sack,
often find the furrows long
and freshly turned.

Those whose megaphone
is the altar before the Lamb,
are told their echoing “How long?”
must wait a bit more.

But in the Age to Come,
when harvest time begins,
when the answer comes, “This long,”
then This Age will end.

The myriad multitudes
and countless crowds will sing
the Lamb’s Song all eternal Day long,
and the echoing sheaves will be



Hand in Front of Your Face (Fornyrðislag)

Hold up your hand before your face:
Darkness dims the lidded windows,
Prevents the palm from being seen
Even at such a close span.

When sight obscured so fully thus,
A little lamp can blaze with fury.
The smallest spark jumps and yells
And holds hope to desperate sight.

The torch toils vainly in day-view,
Blazes brilliant in midnight’s gloom.
The fog forces forgetfulness
Of merry mead-halls’ joyful clamor.

Rake and rasp hard the flint and steel,
Send many sparks aloft in the dark
That weary warriors may stagger home
And drain draughts of home’s own ale.


What is a fornyrðislag?

Cognitive Dissonance (Petrarchan Sonnet)

The placard serving as a nametag read
Correctly, but it still seemed somehow wrong––
Like when a face and voice just don’t belong
Or when a word looks wrong inside your head
Though dictionary’s proof before you spread.
How do you fight a dissonance so strong?
How do you prove the label does belong?
How to endure the heavy lies, like lead––
Not only drag you down but pull aside,
Turn you away from who you really are
Toward the dark despair and loneliness?
Hope lifts your drooping, weeping, heavy eyes
To see the faintest light, a dim, small star
Whose shining heralds something glorious.


What is a Petrarchan Sonnet?