from silent springs


breviloquent word



How many resurrections

does one need

in one lifetime

How many times must a savior

come to our planet

and offer himself to us

before we learn to evolve?

Darwin hanging on the cross

has a revelation


put me up there please


toss rotten apples

from the garden of Eden

nail me with the gravity of the situation

stake me through my bloody Easter palms

make fun of the loins of lust popping

 through my loin cloth

strip me of my dignity

laugh at me

I’ll die for your fucking sins

the little death

and the big one too.

Lust be ready to celebrate

when the rose of Sharon blooms

and the tides rise with the Goddess pagan moon

and your little hearts begin to swoon

create me damn it

damn it, then create me

I am reborn

March 28, 2007 ©SJV



oh Pandora where art thou

ninety nine point nine percent of you

under loved and under appreciated

undiscovered under water

would it be a miracle to don a wet suit

and dive to your depths

revealing what otherworldly creatures have known

about you forever?

dreams of love and hope

not even you are aware of

from this palsied position

 of suspended animation

routine ennui

springs a nympholepsy

within you, crying


perhaps a raffish rapscallion

or a knight in shining armor

clichéd and wrapped in myth

to unwrap your gift

Pandora’s box

with a delicate blade

dangerous and unknown

launching mysterious adventure

with the promise of a hearth

warm, inviting at the end

the tip of your berg my lady,

luckily for you,

serves you like a muse

a daughter of Mnemosyne

the inventor of words

so rest, assured

my strength will carry you

and all your distant far off lands

your wilderness un ravaged

your horrid depths of Hades

your glorious peaks worshipped and adored

your rivers like our life explored

and I don’t know who I am

but you will someday meet me

and pirouette

upon my seeing eye

March 28, 2007 ©SJV


Sculpture: house painting clichés



One Child Policy

Stop procreating, people!
I mean I know you love to fuck.
But seriously, there are Christians out there
that think your eggs and sperm are sacred.
Gargantuan piles of plastic meanwhile accumulate mid-ocean.
Thanks Advent of agriculture:
A layer of over-processed carbohydrate fat circles my midsection that wasn't there 20,000 years ago when I hunted and gathered.
Now, internal combustion engines
terrorize my neighborhoods with their machine gun shattering screams. 
Where is Attila the Hun 
Or Zarathustra?
The silent plunge of the blade 
of the Iron Age, or the bronze?
Thanks China, your Cathayan Dynasty, for your gunpowder!
Now I have gangbangers
Threatening my dreams
Literally stealing drugs in the parking lot of evolution
Right outside my door 
civilization'$ gun to my head
Conforming me to the fake news
Of progress.
Thanks Nazis!
Advancements in space travel
The Life on Mars
Single cells are laughing
At our alien octopi
Shape shifting color changing textured camouflaged 
Tentacled creatures 
Watching us on Television
The tender smell of fresh born babies lingering
Amongst our terrorized 
landscape, please
Make it stop!

Or write that next Great American Songbook,
the perfect marriage of Melody and Word
To transcend the barriers of 
human absurdity 
And make us dance.
March 2021 SJV
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