I can talk like a turnip, let you know
I know things: a scholar
By cheap paper and cheaper ink;
Let you know I love you: 我爱呢
And then leave you frozen still
At the altar of ultimate promises;
I can talk like a turnip, spread wide
My final uttering like the cheap lard
You wasted, smeared wafer thin;
I can talk like a turnip, but would it
Change a thing.
One year I unsaw my face:
No face, no mirrors
For the best of a winter’s season,
With Christmas come and gone
I let the new year slowly pass
Until one grey misty morning
I found courage hanging low
And so I took
And so I pilfered
The truth from the horned beast
That was my image.
One year I unsaw my face:
In no mirrors,
For far too long,
In cracked mirrors
I saw another’s,
No face to call my own,
No place to hide the hidden
Truth of a lost self:
White-bearded,
Aged,
Faceless
Fool
In starlight cold and blue behold her face,
Beside her two of guarding dogs do rest,
Of Titan birth she brings prosperity,
No wonder they built many lasting shrines,
In Thrace the worship of her grace unbound,
Her golden key to open all closed doors
That hides a smile by magic mother moon,
But can she help Demeter’s offspring find,
Our Hecate across the Styx set sail,
To search until Persephone was found;
A triple goddess at our point in time.
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack with a Sleeve of Hearts,
In search for an Afterlife
Beyond her crumbling Cove;
In search for a missing Half
Deep in the Shadowlands.
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack without his Jill,
Beyond the Light the Stories withered
As silence fell and voices faded.
He chose the Path of the Huntress,
A Jack – without a Jill.
