Three Kinds of Heart Poems

Poems, mostly autobiographical and semi-autobiographical for now.


The god Cernunnos visits a folk musician.

A Leaky Faucet/I Beg

You are far away and frail And have headaches and headaches and headaches Creaks and cramps and every kind of krankheit And I'm dizzy, eating supper in front of the laptop again

A New Tribe

It's about breaking up with someone you really miss.


About responsibility, its costs, its rewards and the pull of life. Swearing warning.

Confessive, Transgressive

Confessive, transgressive, I spilled my guts And no one's more surprised I kicked their butts Than I am, my sweet, for I'm really a coward And my boldness desperation-powered

I Was (Without)

I left my body when the new regime took over/Without hope of reform nor subversion

We're Not Fucked Enough Yet

I imagined a pool of crude oil in the bathtub I imagined orphan blood on all my clothes I saw forests fall every time I wrote a love note

Without Guests

And the foolish dervish on the road said "Without guests, all houses would be graves" Well thank you dear, You built me a grave

Of Course It's a Trap

I curl around what I love And squeeze 'til I've choked it- poisoning myself Like that serpent on the back of the ambulance A snake just needs a home


If I hold onto a poem I'll hold onto what it's about, I'll go mad As if I needed any help doing that I'm not sure if I can remember being sixteen But I can remember being prehistoric bacteria


Here is my soul, human, exposed beneath mental armor, weak. Here is my heart, pumping warm blood between cold bare bone and flesh. Here are my eyes, liquid, once pooled behind

Harm None

Every revelation is its own revolution In a world which doesn't know trees can scream Sit someone down and give them the Ten-minute science talk and maybe,

Sleight of Hand

Knowledge Power Pleasure Love

In One Breath

The names of my heat, the names of my shadow Names of truth and rumour, names of my core! The names of my hands A name on every hair of my head The name of my gift Unpronounceable names

The Zen Survivor

The gods, said someone I think it was Voltaire Are comedians playing to an audience who are too scared to laugh It's not exactly what I meant when I stormed out of the church

The Artist

About someone I used to know.

The Warmonger

Old piece I wrote as a preteen.

The Revolt

Another one I wrote when I was much younger.

Family History and the Day of Reckoning

Well all of my bones are just shaped the wrong way And my struggles are spelled out in the stars My mind was programmed as a newborn To eat itself alive And my past has my heart choked in scars

I Swear I'll Recharge You.

Rage, rage against the mechanical ersatz of our lives A bunch of stupid sound and fury, senseless like a war Fumbling, erratic, delusional- drunken dumbshow!


It's about renewal. I wrote this in my mid-teens after the first time I saw Venus in the sky.

So I Met a Bunch of People...

About prejudging people and being surprised.

I Fear a Cruel World

Wrote this in my mid-teens.

The Only Thing

I used to work in a call center. I didn't like the way it changed me. In response, I wrote this.

Lights On

It's about the medical community, mostly.

Sweet Dream Haikus

Most relaxing thing I've ever written. Hint of Zen. Might later expand into Pagan devotional poetry for the goddess of night.

Why I Can't Function

Every day's a gift But does it have to be another stupid pair of socks? Just live another twenty-four hours Just scrape by another day Don't ask what the point is, don't stop to think


Well I've not lived long but I've seen in my time The best sleep aid made is peace of mind & the best medicine a good night's rest & human contact is the cure for stress