And Jesus Wept

You are Yeshua in the depths of Hell, comely and ill-anointed

Freezing in the lowest circle, my sweet seraph of crystal tears.

Tell me, can you see past your chains?


The Apple of Samael

Mad magician, black physician

Shadowed angel of addiction

Shine and whisper, bright enchanter

Serpent- bite my heel.


Venom, tempter, god’s serrator

Gall of death and judgment’s razor

Black blood burn, the twisted savior-

No one leaves your grip alive.


Hollow-lipped and black hole-hearted

Shepard of the dear departed

Your bite, it’s truth- it burns and burns

as this madness, ceaseless turns


Shadow play, I’m dreaming, love

in the serpent’s coils.


The Memory Keeper

Your last words will be a butterfly

that blooms from your lips.


Its scaled wings will be an opalescent blue

like the azure of the sky,

of your soul.



I will coax it onto my finger and whisper

sweet nothings onto this epitaph of air,

then crush its fragile body and sprinkle

the remains on your grave.


You are a creature of the rose, and so from your corpse,

thorns will rise, piercing your flesh

as red petals blossom in the

cemetery dirt.


From pain, beauty.

From death, growth.

From my mourning, your remembrance.

It is I that keeps your wake.


You, in your manifold beauty,

came to me softly, in the pale light of morn

ephemeral as dawn, as fleeting as a whisper.

Kiss of light, oh touch of day!

I tried to hold you- you slipped through my hands.

I am cast upon the waves, gazing up at the stars

Our child, clasped to my breasts.

I sleep.  I dream

of you.

Dancers At The Edge of Time

Upon the angel’s brow slept death

Lot watched his guest with halted breath.

Sodom burned, now ashes fly

between the dead and burning sky.

All is quiet where angels lie.


Lot drowned himself on banks of Lethe

He watches, dead- his corpse, it weeps

bluebell tears, the city sleeps.

The heart of god is dark and deep.


I am a pillar of salty tears.

You burn so brightly,

through the years


Now all is quiet where angels lie

the river of Lethe flows softly by.


I take you, blindly, by the hand

Your flesh is bound,

your eyes like brands.


You lead me on,

oh Death sublime

We are dancers at the edge of time.

King Lindworm

Monster, monster, looking glass

ivory brush, carved of bone

Lindworm licks my throat.

Burgundy cloth, creme white lace

bloodstained wedding gown

It takes a moment to break you

Golden circlet, four-poster bed

bones beneath the wounds

Bleed.  Bleed slow,

strip back skin

I can save you- save you

Washerwoman, sting with lye

Scrub away the exile

Prince beneath- beneath the scale

My binding is my wretchedness

Serpent nor I speak.

Seven bindings, burned away

Naked, newborn, trembling

Come to me, I whisper.

Stumble, shiver, to the bed

Halted, ragged wind-

breath greedy.

Human lunged.


A poem inspired by my favorite fairytale, King Lindworm.

Gall of God

I’m the Addict Angel,

Drug Dealer extraordinaire.

I’m waiting in the shadows for you, sweetheart

Wares tucked into the pockets of my leather trench

Don’t be shy, darling- I have everything you need:

Balms for the soul

Venom for the damned.

I’m Medicine or Poison

Whichever you prefer.

I’m the Original Jack, after all.

I live for the adrenaline rush.

And though withdrawal can be

A pain in the ass-

(and I know everything

about ass pains-

I’m one myself)

The mad bliss is





You do not speak to me, wind-

Merely kiss my ears, taste my tongue

Breathe quietly, in halting breaths

Like the sound of some trembling child.

Imparting nothing, save the

faint impression

of a Paradise,

long gone