Sheer Calm

The oblique sheers
Tear at palms
And looking down's
No time for qualms.

The obelisk citadel
Has many a charm
But all are retrospective
For now you must be calm.

Cassa's tale

We left the ships
At the place of the sacrifice
And treaded the trackless woods.
Two days we walked: Two days!
Until the ground fell away
A curved scarp, a broken bowl
Bounded by the line
Of the Giants' way.

A pleasant place!
Well drained soil: Hazel and Alder
Grew in the sun on the Southern slopes
And fresh water springs: fresh springs
Gushed forth from the hill foot
And good clay, for jars and bowls.
Traders walked the line
Of the Giants' way

And to the North
Pitta's folk lived, farmed their land
Ploughed with oxen, raised sheep and goats.
I met old Man Pitta - Old Man Pitta
And handfasted my daughter
To his grandson. My peaceweaver
Said her vows on the line
Of the Giants' way.

It has my name
This valley. My legacy.
And whenever elders gather to speak the law
They will call it Cassa's Hop. Cassa's Hop
Where Cassa's folk tend the earth
And travellers, traders, teachers from the Whitechrist
Will call my name from the line
Of the Giant's way.

Snow Blind

Never take these words for granted.
As snow, they will fall and freeze,
everything you know will turn white,
blank as the eye of an ice seal.
That is how Eskimos lose their way,
too much snow, it is why they bead
their moccasins and fur their hoods,
why their faces turn brown with wind
and sun, why they walk for miles and miles,
in search of the perfect nose rub,
by the light of a lamp, fueled by whale fat,
just to hear Nagligivaget
just to feel her eyelashes against a wrist
just to shed the skin of a thousand tribes
I have walked far to find you,
I am weary, let me rest;
Nagligivaget
I love you.

Another poem that sort of rhymes but doesn't scan

UKC -
You bore me
With poetry.
Mediocrity
Seems to be
Perfunctory,
Despite the
Nightly mockery
Of judiciary.
It strikes me
As self-congratulatory
And quite frankly
I don't have the time to read it all.


Zap away! ;-)