Grifyn Poetry
Ecstatic Poetry In Various Forms
From the 2026 Collection
SIXES AND SEVENS
i.
PEN AND INK
“I will dip my pen in you
And make you my ink, my Love.”
The Beloved says this
To me, one night in May
I weep with happiness
that Day, I shed so much—
For I see my blood has turned
To ink, without thinking.
It flows through my veins, thusly
Blood as ink, ink as blood
I cannot help but spill it
Push it upon the page
From this heaven of my new
Heart, freshly free of hurt
And rage which take me apart.
The cock crows, the birds sing
All night long like starlight
Like Venus holding forth
On the horizon, just
above, suspended like
The breath, a watchtower of
Love. And breathing. And—haaaaa—-
Calling out, A Beacon:
“Once I would destroy you
But now I beam you light
Sacrificial sounds, teeming
With delight, and scents of
Insensibility—“
You make me say these words
They all belong to You
Every syllable
And letter, every
Period I do, I live
In exultation, a prince
Without a crown, a lord
Of many masters that
Seizes the world around.
Remember that ink, in me?
I’ve spilled it on you Now!
Forgive me, let me clean it
And stain you from my brow.
Harinam
May 5, 2026
Twenty One
A.
Witho t
Yo
the
ni
verse
wo ld be j st a
lot of bad
poetry
spinning o t
of rhyme
with no
one
ness or sense
of f n
(for tr e f n
cannot exist
witho t Yo )
B.
children wo ld
never sl mber
and the ivory
ni corn
wo ld
be as nknowable
as the secret of sore feet.
C.
a
b s
wo ld not r n
or need the
comfort of maps
and all the atlases
of E rope
wo ld hang mid-air
like nooses
waiting
for
the
condemned.
D.
a t mn
is lost
witho t
E.
witho t Yo
the s mmer
has no
s m
(nor do
i,
trembling only
nder
the
threat
of a
never
Yo )
F.
Snow wo ld
never
fl rry
and
the world wo ld loose
its ability to be
bea tif l
(however,
i co ld still
be happy
happy
happy!
b t life wo ld
not be
as
pleas rable
and the meas re
of my love
wo ld never
be the same --
witho t Yo ,
hearts is j st
a card game.
G.
Yo
are the
p rity
in the
p lse of
cold mo ntain
water
b rsting
from the
earth
(tho gh
witho t
Yo ,
the watered sod
bloats
and t rns
to a pool
of prisoned m d
(which,
witho t
Yo
is nothing
b t
dirt
dirt
dirt)
H.
the nknown
wo ldn't
even
know
That it
wasn't
mistaking itself
for the known
it would trip
on its own beca se )
I.
the Gn
wo ld
be lost
too
and think of
that!
i think
of
Yo
J.
Witho t Yo
the
s n won't b rn
(my heart
wo ld be a t ndra ,
nable to
blaze
nder
yo r
heavenly
hands)
K.
Yo
are the
smallest
sheep
(the tender
ewe)
who
wanders
in the meadow
beneath a
clo d-lit sky
(witho t
Yo ,
dirt rains
from the heavens
and lovers
live in a
s ckless world
of never rain
never rain
ever dry
and painf l
(witho t
Yo ,
even pain
is empty)
)
L.
the b sh
wo ld
never b rn
and moses
wo ld sell ins rance like broken promises
and never
live to be even
one h ndred
years old.
M.
Witho t Yo
sq ares
are forgotten
nothing is
ro nd
and we wo ld
live in a world
of sharp triangles
(where noone
wo ld get
c t
b t
everyone wo ld be
s
t
a
b
b
e
d
by desire for Yo
for Yo
N.
Witho t Yo
the world
cannot t rn ro nd,
or the moon
dance in
its p ll
indeed,
witho t Yo
o r moon is never f ll.
O.
Never worry,
don't fret,
i can get by
fine witho t Yo .
B t there will
never be
a
s rpl s
of anything
and shortages
will reign
like sharp teeth.
P.
these co ld
be q atrains
instead of trolleys of
words
heading
into
the
heat
of
Yo r
heart
(witho t Yo ,
nothing wo ld be Yo rs
and everything mine
witho t Yo
witho t Yo )
Q.
Witho t
Yo
there wo ld be no
(G r )
God wo ld
be an
angry
growl
a consonantal
snarl
prone to
continental
drift
b t worst of all
there wo ld be no
Yo and i
to fly pon the
wings
of
we.
R.
j stice will be lost
or(at best)come last l i s
t i
n
g
from side
to
side
like a dr nken madman
(ah, to drink witho t Yo ,
I wo ld never be tr ly dr nk again, too)
S.
Cows wo ld lose
their dders
wives their h sbands
and the sh ddering
ecstatic j mping of
the saints
wo ld become a homely
tremble,
a spirited
shake
w i t h o t Y o
T.
Witho t Yo ,
n mbers wo ld fall o t of line
like these
letteredpoems
and this
imperfect rhyme.
harinam
WELCOME TO SOMETHING
You made me come today, but
I really didn’t want to
I wanted to stay at home
In bed, nursing my grudges
Polishing my discontent
Practicing haughtiness and
New forms of resentment like
Like so many types of, well,
Expectation, I guess—Yes?
Then there’s the disappointments.
I could make a morning of
Those, spill them to afternoon,
Maybe even to eve’ning—
Okay, it would have taken
Several days. But I’m here.
Talking in American.
But you understand me, oui?
Si, Yah, Dah, So, La, Ti, Do.
Of course, the afternoon would
Have been spent in such special
Purgatory: wishing for
The past so I could run it
Through the laundry, wash it and
Wring it, and, oh yes, at last
Iron it all out. Flat.
The evening was set aside
For Future Anxiety
Cake, and Tea made of bitter
Ness, whose sister, Clarabelle,
Is not clear on the concept
Of anything, having not
A thing to do all day but
Marinate in her own juice:
The juice of human unkind
Ness. For she has that thing
Occupying my eve’ning
(Were I not here right now):
Oh—you want to know what That
Is? Impatience. We’re such
Good friends.We often take long
Drives together, or queue up,
As you English like to say,
In America, we love
Long lines. A Disneyland of
Long lines. Waiting (impatient)
Unrepentant. Hollow. Sad.
For that’s what impatience holds
All our sorrows, wantings,
Needings, and more. We’re so a
Fraid. Let’s get to it, get this
Over, why is the line not
Moving? What idiot—what
Jerk--what Other Person is
Ruining my day, making
Me miserable. Oh God.
That’s how I would have spent my
Day, if you hadn’t made me
come here to say—oh, well—
I meant to give a speech
About forgiveness and com
Passion and tastey treats
but I forgot to write it.
I hope you forgive me
For that. For this. Ev’rything.
Harinam
May 10, 2026