Paul A. Skec

one or some ov these

bredd fr the hubwar

scrap fr the farshore
cut by propsmoke
the litepoint phalanx
on frontline’s edge
knives poisontippd
mists part


the shades ov defeat
curl & swurl
unfurl on the wurld


people front frantic
‘bout cracking under stress
flesh don’t crack
minds have shells not
skulls they crack shatter splinter
yeh, they crack



this is where we are and have been
words are but a fragile cloak
shielding us from attaining infinite grace
this is how we live—this is where i cry
this is water wasted on what’s dead
we all want blessings
until that movement
what shall we leave behind?

this is who we call on—this is where we stand
we are but motes cosmic
riding an inviolable wave ov lite
this is where i fall—no need for nation now

this is no call to arms no revolution or holy dollar war
ask not for freedom—ask not for slavery
we drink not your blinding beer we live not in fear’s shadows
live not for soft sweetness—dreem ov a shading tree


redeem yrself


cold pain burns thru hands numb
scarred—by bones
ov snapping dead trees
saplike—blood oozes from scrapes minor
fires bounce off his eyes


at a chunky log chopping axestrokes many micrologs in sawdust
a murderzone blassted when comes the splintering blow
into urth—all thought drains the edge curves—grounded
its ark bites with gravity a chink—shrieklike it sags—flames leap


another room—above embers strange
the log rests—orange licked lasciviously
by lean tongues ov flame pale—yellow, darting
white squared the distorted cylinder
cracked, charred—it pops, snaps & krunkles


thru a distracted mirror

tymes are bleak—this vehicle stills
not even music—kan change,
power nor salve the residence
in the silence ov slalom

bleak tyme is urthforce
evol:ution in calm ov traveltruth:
know music is out there—
isolated no movement w/out mutation

on the flip—sigrdrifa seducts
reneural ov liberation shellterborne
music layers the sacred flame:
“listen—it’s getting closer” ethers urn release

compulsion ov music—
trance ov vast serenity here catalysts slip
to the well, resistense timeout no loss
looser flip: vigilant impulse instils flame—
swanskin sought eternal
the layer is sacred—
soundpatterns connection: beware chants incomplete

“mission control has—no further comment”


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