Saturday, February 26, 2005

We know it's tedious, but we've moved to....

Minerva Victrix poetry blogs

thank you for your consideration

Thursday, October 07, 2004


The median is the strangest in this world,
Those doubly hemmed by cambia of gold and dross, two deaths for the
     middle human,
They have an ease but they have eyes to see,
They struggle to protect, in their vigilance they lose themselves.
Doubly hemmed and of it doubly irritable.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004


Thymoetes climbed the rainbow to sit as keystone,
Waited, thought of himself as the opposite to Faustian,
With a good forewarning of the chute, the slide,

Refraction, although existing in colour, no essence, no esse,
As if the parabola, as if the hyperbola might mean some thing,
The rainbow can enter the mind freely, lacking any harsh body.

The covenant of our Lord that Thymoetes saw, climbed,
Resplendent, and regarding it and the crock of gold,
Despite the talk, meeting the earth never.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004


At the crossroads, the governor imposed from a far capital
As a Pilate or Quisling or Seyss-Inquart,
And for him too many had on their lips collaborator,
The creak of torsion,
The twisting links caught and played by zephyrs,
Phineus turns as random as the dice,

At the crossroads the cadaver has done five hundred years,
     orbits aimed at the advance,
In death, this fingerpost will inform the traveller,
Who thinks they have a choice,

Three times Bellerophon strikes the oracle,
Three times the oracle comes to rest,
Telling of the road just done, return.

Monday, October 04, 2004


Beauty, the lode discovered on the poor farmer's land, making
     riches overnight,
Galatea from a cottage or croft, transfigured immediately from
     her incongruous place,
The world shall not allow beauty in such disguising rags,

Has she shut off her low birth,
That might cause her to be agenda'd emissary from below to
And when she detonates, no betrayer—has she?

Sunday, October 03, 2004


Love, especially that love torrential, founded on polarity and the
     exploration of difference,
Too often can become a universal key,
And once it has opened any dark and deplorable vaults in the
Having no consonance between the parties,
For them to sense, and to impede their rush, disaster awaits.

Saturday, October 02, 2004


Pygmalion in the railway delta, having selected,
Roulette of the tracks, will lie and wait,
with throat and ankles meeting the straights, across the span
sometimes the metal sounds are near, sometimes far,

I calculate with infinitesimals because purity is my grail, he says,
Whether the tonnes of iron will choose the same,
Where is the one true outcome inside a multitude of false?

The Perils of Pauline, The Exploits of Elaine,
Pacific 6-2-2 will mince him fine, Mogul 6-2-0 will have his soul,
The chancery is no different to always, he says,
To home or heaven, one or the other tonight.

Tonight, he will go to his home,
Or he will go to heaven, one or the other tonight.

Thursday, September 30, 2004


Says Electra:

—I need a moral good and evil now,
Something above the quotidian good and bad,
Something above the puritan right and wrong,
And if such shou’d not prove available,
Then this is much more serious than I thought.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004


Arachne, gathering more concisely her anger:
—I see them in their black sarcophagi,
Above the people so efficiently,
Untouchable, the dead kings of the land.

The world's so slowly made, says Arachne,
And with its truths so slowly turned to use.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004


Got leaders, got a great many leaders declined, superannuated,
     tested to destruction,
These odd little autocrats, great steersmen, helmsmen,
Whether men of steel or princes of peace,
The overkill not only in the adjectives but in the nouns as

Monday, September 27, 2004


Says Iphigenia:

Each year I greet as though my lover arrived,
Well-favoured and debonair, I feel,
And he's got swoonsome written all over him,
Champagne and roses and warmth in the cold,
I welcome him as the year that will sweep me from my

But as each year in succession predeceases,
Badly let down, betrayed, I must shuffle to the next.

Sunday, September 26, 2004


Sometimes the road from gulch and Tombstone lifts and Providence
     large-lettered blares; debate at this, but there is no debate.