in echoes of faraway silence
in naked stones and sassafras root
and the prick of thistles

it lingers

like the white cries of
Cree spirits to the lumbering Milk River

and an angry sun
on its bruised cornflower canvas of sky
stares at the sad faces of painted pansies
through slanting shafts of grey

wishing

to wash over the dancing dust
of billowing prairie grasses

to softly shower away
the quiet

Canto Three ~ Torgándon, The White Salt Cliffs, tower in the present day to heights beyond the clouds.

Let me hide behind my shield
Of innocents and women
should I be killed here it will yield
headlines of condemnation
as planned

For I have corrupted civilians
and co-opted Islam to my cause
I, who shall only know the gates of hell
when justice finds its way to me

I am a true freedom fighter
my purpose to be free
to kill or enslave all
with whom I disagree

My hatred is my only friend
it leaves no room for love
or compassion
or tolerance
and never forgiveness

your eyes and mouth
don't match
it gave you
an off-centered
look

we argued
made up
made love
walked in storms
dripped rain
made love again
discussed my country
falling into the ocean

your room was beautiful
i forgot his face there
guilt came after we ended
although i never thought
an explanation was needed

i am filled with ghosts
yours and mine
i have opinions on
the death of death
and love, if
that's what we had

you ask me to believe
i'm left wondering
about the colour yellow

are women meant to be hidden
behind burqas of black,
or a bluebird's blue?
to disappear
into daylight;
is it for God or the lusts
of men? are not women jewels wherever
we are and whatever we wear?

tell me, is Christianity American
and Judaism Israeli and how did
the two get so entwined in Joseph's coat
of many colours? when was there a time
when Jerusalem was built to be divided?

within this lifetime
too many nights
have been bereft of touch

now there is a need
to feel heart beats
against hands as skin
lay softly against skin

no longer will the hollow void
of black echo beyond white fear
be that vacuum of alone

we have fought against
the tide of time
the chains of conformity
the ease of existence

but love ignores reason,
empowers our minds
along paths of wonder

.

thusly, I say
it is such as it is
for your sake

fortuitous
whether or not
you sense it
or even care

without this suchness
who knows....?

nothingness or
pods of protoplasm or
sky monkeys on pigback
with lassos twirling inside out
looking for an ungrateful bastard
who lives on ingratitude and weasel vitamins or
who knows...!

this here and now,
our present arbitrariness,
is under-rated by so many

have a closer look
it works pretty good
being a man, I mean

Morning after morning, days run by
You hear him whistle all day long
Tunes of wrestling songs of his youth
When he was the champion of men

Afternoon after afternoon, he snores
Sleeping on the mat in the veranda
Waiting for friends to come from work
To gamble with draft and oyoyo games

Evening after evening, he drinks
Akpeteshi and gin mixed with roots
Then turns around to ask for food
From me, one he calls weaker sex

spoke out three at once
their words spilling
laughter at the quick repetition
the flask was fixed
the game named
a hot sun flamed
and sunset died

watching each other
legs swinging arms
sweeping as we spoke
and loons called
while we waited for
the first stars to bite
the beautiful heaven
aflame with their
tongues of bright

"tommorrow is a burden"
you said your stick
stirring the hot fire
your eyes a thousand
lives away

then you turned and
smiled

The Low Road home is mine to take
for in the bitter ending of my time
when I can no longer stand the grief
of cherished loved ones left behind

I will soar across the white-capped ocean
towards those islands rising green up from the sea
I will cross the rocky shorelines
thick with seaweed and sleek seals

and by the still and quiet waters of Loch Sunart
I will meet you, where sun kisses cloud
upon the summits of emerald mountains
and burnishes the red flame of your hair