LADY OF


LADY OF


Why do I sing You praises
bittersweet as the fruit
rotting like a fever in my
garden of earthly delights

Why do I follow You who
leads me nowhere but
back to my own prayers
pray to You
who never answers
pray to Your
silence with mine

Why do I adore You
upon whom I never
lay folded hands
nor kiss with lips
that You once blessed
nor share a glass
of consecrated wine

Why do I love Your
blues melody moon
My Lady of Muses

I Johnny Sparrow am
a drunkard and a dancer
and a lover of love
and would seem better
suited to Bacchus or
Aphrodite's ivory arms
or the Pipes of Pan

But even the most
Olympian of young mortals
may con the house out of
round after blessed round
of sweet nectar and ambrosia

for only so many nights
before dreams of
immortality pass away
on the barroom floor

Now my belly is full of holes
the hangovers never go away
some of my friends
seem to wish I would
while others are kind enough
to drive a man to drink

So the next
round's on me
My Lady of Potions

Every night I call to You
for no good reason but our
long walks together from
the blessing of sunset
through the morning
of my mournings

leaving behind
no footprints to
mark our sharing
of dry tears

Other Gods smile
upon the faithful
promise to reward
piety and tithe with
forgiveness from sin
or at least an eternity
of sinfully good times

So when I sought
to steal a drink
from the Pride of Gods
live as though death were
a joke played on the dead
why did You look
the other way

Is the joke on me
My Lady of Waning Moons

Of course I've never
really managed to fill up
that big black cauldron
emptying into my holy gut

since Papa walked out leaving
behind nothing but bills and
Mama quit the church choir
singing her sorrows into
a state mental hospital

with the wine and smoke and
sex flowing through me like
souls down the river Styx

or I broke a virgin schoolgirl's
heart and couldn't glue it back
or the day a Texas Ranger
dragged off my best friend
for what I had just sold him

never blessed to wash onto
the safe dim shores of Hades
caught in the undercurrent
of unfinished business

What business
is it of Yours
My Lady of the Lost

I have always
felt that You had
something in mind for me
that my wanderings will lead
into ever tighter circles
until the night I hit
Ground Zero and You
send me away forever 

Do You groom me with
Your comb of human ribs
for some singular
moment of heroism
saving the day amid
a pile of crashed cars or
maybe a burning orphanage

or do You wait for me
to settle into a life
of little victories
home family charity
quiet pillars of spirit
giving worth to the body's
last great defeat

or perhaps
do You lead me through
the alleys and dry washes
of all lost souls
that I may sing dance
make friends and love

in the company of Witches
of hookers poets painters
vagabonds disgraced monks 
old soldiers petty thieves

while I draw their likenesses
in free verse and cheap song
detailing vein by fragile vein
charting the nether regions
of the human heart

Do You live for sorrows
love me for my pain
as I love You for Yours
My Lady of the Burning Stake

But whatever the moment or
victory or dark merriment
I suppose I should be
sober enough to enjoy it
while it lasts

So I suppose for You
I will stop drinking away
the Holy Waters

quit expanding
As I Will into
As I Will Have
Another Round

transmute lead into
the Philosopher's Stone
not the Philosopher Stoned

leave the fermented badlands
to greet You once again in
the clear cold nights of
deserts both stone and steel

where the only wine
is made of ripe moonlight
and the only pitcher
is made of clean stars

but only for You
because You never asked
never once commanded
that I follow the truth
never let me stop stumbling
through my own prayers
of twilight and dawn

and just maybe
for me as well
for after all
what is a spell
without a wish

My Lady of Witches
Go to the next poem or the previous poem
Return to Table of Contents