Dirt Shaman Of the dust and dirt – Born to: Hurt Ardent hardened Icy winds – Archers of The Arctic. All upon the heart Pulsating in The dark. Whispering flames of The art. Born to be A rocket. From the very Start. Of the Heart. The third eye That doesn’t lie Reading the pentacles of The oracles ***Cipher Poems ***

(To be recited in twilight, before extinguished candles and broken mirrors.)   I kneel before the god who never asked. I light a candle that was never wax. I speak the name that was never given. I offer truth wrapped in illusion.   You wear robes...