Miscellany Us
by Hack Ryder



gone bad for good

wind blows
from the canyon.
Since the stars
will never shine
time has come
for me
to lean against
the willow


life span

a mayfly
and i
faced each other,
a short breath.
she looked
me in the eye
and turned away
to die.

tonight the stars
and I
faced each other;
i looked them
in the eye
and turned away.



It is the week
of present life,
of dancing the day,
of touching the hour,
of meditating the moment.
Live it
or spend afflicted
zombie yesterdays
and numb tomorrows
in exile
from your


Wholly Trinity

If poetry is life condensed,
death, love and music
love, death and music
death, music and love
music, death and love
love, music and death
music, love and death,
then life is poetry sensed:
where some see
noise, sex and violence
the poet feels and lives
music, love and death
as they roam freely,
barbed but unfenced.


New Hegelian Dialectics

pain shadows a distant star,
painting every moment dark and darker --
your steps retreat
until they cease
to be steps
for my ear.

joy is the cool sun
of spring,
cool because it's fresh,
sun because it's been so long in the firmament,
taken for granted.


The Angel of Silesia (Angelus Silesius)

 tell me,
angel of silesia,
if god cannot exist without you
(nor you without god),
why not put it to the test
by praying hourly
to your mystic
in the holy words
of descartes
as adapted
by popeye:
"i think,
i yam what i yam."



beats on the shell
of a turtle
with Goedel.

A dutch graphic
artist in swirling traffic
takes pleasure
in drawings of Escher.

a german composer,
white as chalk,
figures in fugues
of J.S.Bach.

I hear my ear.
I feel my touch.
I reek my smell.
I taste my buds.
I see my sight..

And sometimes even sleep at night.


that dancing god

i could only believe
in a god
who dances
among mortals
now and then
and who stumbles
out of sympathy
or out of faith
in the existence
of imperfection.

what she does
on her own time
among angelic hordes
is of zero interest.


"brothers under the skin"

in a perpendicular universe
each living thing
has nerve endings
and emotions
attached to those
of every other living thing
by means of biosensual modem.

when muthark strikes out in anger
at krawtum,
she feels the
pain and anger
tear at her own

when cosibell
verbally shames punarum,
his own self-esteem plummets
and he knows himself
a social outcast.

muthark and cosibell
become children,
learning to accept others
as a path to inner peace.

their parents have not seen





nor heard of such.