Tag Archives: Duane's PoeTree

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

WHEN THEY LOVE US NOT   When the ones we want to love us   leave no doubt they’ve left us behind,   should we loll around, scavengers   of leftovers lying around?   Or should we collate our losses   like alarmed lieutenants behind   the lines, wannabe avengers   of honor lost onContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

EXCERPTS FROM ABELARD’S NOTEBOOKS I knew words never demonstrate the truth in things, they are jut sounds we use for our own convenience, but when I chose my name with careful confusion, showing off by punning in Latin, German, and Hebrew to connote and conflate my noble ability’s (hevel‘s) dance (ballare) with steadfast vanity (hevel again)Continue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

HOPE, LOVE, GOD We Meat Creatures are easily damaged, prone to age and spoilage. Not understanding our habitat or each other or ourselves, we survive by hiding from fact. Reason by emotion is compromised, honor by opportunity. We are content to admire our meat in those mirrors we devised to fool us into belief inContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Heath Brougher

Your God Your God is a slave to human imagination and flights of ridiculous fancy. Your God is more dead than Nietzsche. Your religion is an insane social disease,  childish and created to help cowards  cope with vaguely cultivated conundrums concerning Truth.  Your God is an anvil tied to Humanity’s tyranny of evil traditions andContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Heath Brougher”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

SCENIC Yesterday I was an open field, cosmos-filled. Distant horizons misted in all directions. The face of the early-summer sun wore its smiling-every-day forecast. (You said the sight of my noontime sundial made you giggle and blush.) And the wind combed through my hair and through the chickadees’ pinions. I had many solstices ahead. TodayContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

THE POSTMORTEM Your doom and your disappearanceare but two of death’s deceptions. You won’t ride with the Valkyries or be served by any houris. Don’t expect balance and feather, an accounting in a ledger, an inquisition by angels, the companionship of sages. You’ll have no Hell/karma/Heaven —judgment’s privileged to the living. Your remains are genesContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”

VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees

BLOOM’S KAMA SUTRA, new edition To the garden of harlots I pilgrimage again. “Hey, Bud.” The rival queens of the bed compete for attention and agency. “Pick me, pick me.” Their perfumes, their costume hyperbole, all tended for effect. Their gloss and glitter lipstick, their soft and tender feel. “I bet you came to sniffContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Duane Vorhees”