Chaos & Order

I. Chaos
Moments unsteady beat
Into rawhide, oblong
Drums representing
Separate instances all
Swung upwards in vast
Dissonant intervals,
A pungent drone like
Herd animals bleating
Cries at the unforgiving cold
Of a deep winter’s night


Peaking viscerally
In and out of
Swirling colors absent
Form struggles to be.
Like the firefly’s glow
Amidst menacing and
Habitual dark
It thrives but for a
Moments unsteady beat
Into rawhide, oblong
Drums representing
Separate instances all,
And darkness recollapses


Chaos revels,
I am sworn against its motion.
II. Order
And over the chaos—success!
Momentum is gained,
Ecstasy is directed into a circular motion!
Order is circumscribed ‘round its edges
With patterns of lights and sound,
A seraphic singing,
A definite language,
Efficient phonetics, and beauty.
The inspired sound folds
And builds lattice-work harmonies upon itself
Bracing one octave against another
To the architectural heights
Where a point of observation can be built.


From a point of observation
Can come a point of reflection
It is a process—processes develop—
Affecting and extinguishing chaos,
With academies and libraries,
Rising from the depths of a will,
Domed roofs,
Rows and the columns,
All variables defined,
All persons accounted for.


Moments of brilliance
Now vary sinusoidally with darkness.
They, like the perfect gleam
Of a rounded glass containing,
Focusing the erratic gleams
Of a firefly’s glow,
Light an understood summer’s night.
And come night, I retire
And practice porch arts,
And look out at the labyrinths I’ve sown,
Imposed and sustainable nourishment,
I sit and I strum
A Pythagorean lute,
A stringed instrument
That is always perfectly in tune.


I am pleased with the synchronization.
Everything is synchronized.
But I’ve never felt more alone.

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