Author: Jonathan Bailey

I am a Solitary Consecrated Religious (hermit) in the Anglican Christian tradition.

The Widow's Web

Each moment in life is like an anvil struck by a hammer
Each experience involves a thousand sparks spraying the consciousness
With a brilliant, luminous, colorful shower
Providing the memory with a landscape of expansiveness

Sadly, each spark lasts only a moment
As each of us is merely a temporal transient
But this is the story of a second in a widow’s web
That caused the transient’s despair to ebb

Two dudes were staggering down the street
Not cognizant of who they’d meet
Not knowing the nature of the coming encounter
That would be had on two sides of a bartender’s counter

They thought they’d sit and order a beer
But they were served a dish of beauty and cheer
The hot dish moved back and forth with the steps of a panther
Delight sprang from each step as the boys dialed up their amorous blather
They could do nothing but feebly verbalize their utter enchantment
At the beautiful soul encased in the body of an Olympic contestant
Adorned with hoops of gold, a ringlet of obsidian, and a jacket displaying eighty two
Trust me, just looking at her will convince you that she thinks the world of you
And when you’ve been convinced, she will smile
Something no woman has done to you in a while

But this widow isn’t just some type of spider
There is something infinitely grand and powerful inside her
She once was the wife of a man now with God above
No stranger to the pleasure and pain of two dancing in love
And to two children she is a mother
But does she lack a friend, a lover, a husband, or a brother?

These thoughts beset him as he let himself be dragged to Mexico
By a frantic and hysterical horse named Hidalgo
Will she be a spark in a shower consumed by night?
Are his plans for the future just a kneejerk of panicked flight?
If not, then who would this widow be?
Now that his failure to Noah has destroyed his destiny
And he is truly free
From his own identity


Inspired by a line from Silvia Plath
I put the pen to paper
Desperate to find myself again on a path
But fearful to behold the scorched earth into which my path will taper 

My family and friends are just accounts on Spotify
Apparently abandoned by their owners
Their content supplied by spirits hoping to magnify
The insanity of aimless wandering loners 

The images of people who were never there
Are etched into my mind
And wrapped around my soul
An echo of love of nothing raises every hair
The lack of a voice that isn’t mine
Consumes me like a black hole 

Don’t even talk about the song
That’s what they say
So I will wait forever for the day
To find that for which I long 

The thousand curls of chocolate
Are just another form
Of a Dutch girl’s waves of caramel
The tail of Haley’s comet
Is today’s new norm
Of tomorrow’s brand of hell 

Will there ever be a passable state of order?
Or will I just die in a ditch south of the border?
I wish I could stay still forever for you
But my life has to move forward too 

If you can find the courage
Not to disparage
But simply to place a call
You will be my wonderwall 

Now I refuse to say the word never
But I won’t be completely free forever
When I was young, I missed the boat of another
And now I am only a cousin to an utterly incredible lover 

So I’ve learned that I’m the last Jedi
Me, myself, and only I
Listening to ghosts on Spotify
Trying to discern the reason why
God hasn’t caused me to die 

Noah, do you even see me in these black waters drowning?
I doubt you have the will or knowledge or love to save
A swimming scorpion from your ark’s irresistible wave
While you lay silently on your bed in your room frowning 

I don’t know how to give up on you
I taught myself to forget how to do that
The last time I lost a soulmate
This has happened to me a time or two
But it’s something I can’t pull out of a hat
So if you do nothing, it will be too late
Not for me, but for you
This will be a new thing for you where you’re at
The alarm with no wake-up date 

I know it well
But I’ve already used the word hell
So I liken to hades
Being ghosted by ladies
For whom I am the solution
To their evolution 

I’ve already lost my virginity
To the prospect of an eternity
With the memory of an unsolvable riddle
Did you ever even notice me
Sitting under your magic apple tree
Or just unwittingly play me like a fiddle
Sounding like a soliloquy
Of a buzzing bee
With a mute playwright in its middle 

From me to you, I’ll always be there
But from you to me
We don’t know who we’ll be
If the day comes when you care 

The Agent

She was an agent from another plane of existence
Higher, outer, infernal, supernal
He didn’t really know the difference
He only saw amatory, carnal, maternal 

He had to tell her the deal
He didn’t know what was real
He knew he wanted to save her
So she could give his life flavor 

She blinked in and out of his day
Like an impulse who wanted to stay
But was compelled to go away
By mistrust, shame and desperation
Which created the perfect instigation
Of a need to betray 

Was it her illimitable beauty that drove him to seek her?
Or merely that he was a perpetual seeker?
Were there really two people in this dance?
Or was he just dancing with the idea of romance? 

He barely knew who she was
Effectively just some sort of fuzz
Enveloping a shredded brain
Like a line of noetic cocaine 

How well did the Good Samaritan know the Wounded Jew?
What does he need to know in order to love you?
And to love you, what does he need to do?

We know that this nubile beauty
Is in many ways a drug
She is apparently also quite a thug
But love is a cocktail of pleasure and duty 

Love can’t be present when one is alone
Else the alleged lover is merely a drone
And a slave to desire
The immolating fire 

The memory of her thousand curls of brunette hair
Licking the oxygen from the surrounding air
Like flickering tongues of chocolate flame
Invokes a portrait of a picture-perfect dame
As a frame for wide turquoise eyes
That apparently contain a lot of lies 

Yet he’d forgive all of this
For a prolonged kiss
Not given with lips
Or even with hips
But with attention and time
Because then he’d know he were worth a dime 

What kind of thoughts would he send to the sky
After those days in which he thought he might die
In a trainwreck at the crossroads of fate
As she watched him hyper-vigilantly half-conscious through hell fire skate 

How could she disappear with scarcely a word
As if he were merely some freaked out nerd
Left to ride on alone
On a worn-out roan

Don’t leave
I will help you
The pair will make do
God will grant reprieve 

The Moment

Thought of as a lack of cacophony
But it’s a matter of identity
And one’s relationship to eternity 

She flies through my arms like a dove
She flies through my heart like a dart
The curve of a woman is her art
Carried by gossamer wings
Through a diaphanous veil she sings 

Why does it contain hardship?
Because it’s not a bag of dope
It’s the throne of hope 

Let me tell you a secret
This wasn’t a man chillaxin’
It was a man needing Venlafaxine
Therefore, he was everyone’s dipshit 

What does he need?
His woman and his weed
The words he wove yesterday
Before his sanity flew away
To stroll through the vaults of heaven
With compassion without leaven 

And his king