The Hunger

Deep in desire’s anatomy,
In the parabolic arcs,
In this hunger’s great hegemony,
In the sweep of tender dark,
I would teach you of my body,
As you learned of yours, anew
In the speechless awe embodied
In the tracing lines we once drew
Upon two curving dreams,
The synergy of souls uniting,
As we took of joy’s extremes
In the fusion of our igniting.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

Bed of Roses

As you disappear
From disbelieving eyes,
I dissipate all fear
To vapour trails on skies,
Soon to rain for the memorial,
Which lies within your sea,
Down past the sartorial
Disguises that we see
In your faintly empty poses,
The envy some must feel
At your apparent bed of roses,
The Instagram appeal
Of such beauty and such glamour,
The fashionista zeal
Of the Likes for which they clamour,
For some validation
Of life somehow lived better now,
Love’s dilapidation
In some abandoned vow,
But there’s nothing else to do
On this abandoned part,
Except to pray for you
And your endangered heart.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018


All phenomena have become the same
With the only differentiation
In the psychological frame
Of reference and pure imagination.
Perception seeing miracles abound,
Decrepit deceptions now disobeyed
By this epiphany for which we prayed,
The phenomenon that we somehow found
Belonged to us in a truly cosmic way –
A new form of light on an unlit day.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018


I see us there together in Tomorrowland,
Beneath the giant mechanical seahorses,
I see that we’re lost in our dancing hand in hand
Inside music’s sensual supernature forces
As a deck wizard channels cosmic thunderbolts
Of seismic noise into and out through watts and volts;
Kalkbrenner, Paul, they’re saying this prophet is called
And by frequency and rhythm, he has forestalled
The meaning of time as we once thought we knew it,
Thus, as we meld and sway with ten thousand lovers
Our sliding grasp of past and future uncovers
The primal truth of our union woven through it.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

Inspiration Wizard Kalkbrenner


The reds and golds of our only kiss
Still regale me in the mystical dream
Of us being the Aurora Borealis,
Holding ourselves in its cosmic stream
Of alien souls from stars far away
That shimmer in the quantum clutch,
Our lumens mingled in an exquisite way,
The light desirous of entanglement’s touch.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018


A visage arose and shone
Like the final drop of gold.
Behold, blink, it was gone
And those memories were old.

But then a glimpse again
In the corner of my eye,
A glittering speck and then –
Gone once more. But why?

Well, the answer is unknown,
For the elements do not choose
The vistas that are shown
To the souls with souls to lose.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

Image Ellyn Bivin


I am thistle and kernel –
Mandala in blue kosmogonia,
Virus of a truth
So stark
So beautiful,
Flooding through the eye of light,

Synaptic phantasmagoria
Inside Us – The Beholders
Of space-time’s
Impossible intricacy
And the accidental glory
Of life.

How weak such endings,
Short of magnificence,
Yet our gods seem to do this,
Leaving us far short of perfection,
Not least against
The inexhaustible
And the limits of expression.

Vitriol of blue mandala,
All I have.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018