Author: Makar

Stephen Sutherlin is a designer, poet and musician. He writes poetry about life in the southwest and enjoys metrical lyricism.

You Name It

Must we put a name to it?
Must we give it meaning?

The Devil, Demons, The Angel of Death
What you call IT is revealing—

Angst, grief, tension, stress
So many names that I digress

For I do not believe
The language is right

To describe endless terror
“The Things” that cause fright

Primordial Fear
Feels a lot more than
Words
It comes from a place before
Comforting verse

No, you don’t need a name
For the unending dread

We all share the same
[feelings]
That Fear’
— Being Dead —

With deeper meanings our
Redemption calls

Forgive ourselves, forgive
Our foes
All these things that we
Never controlled

Each thing that dies
Gives room for birth

Our brave renewal is
Not a curse

Though it may hurt
To feel this loss

A new beginning turns
Back the frost
And gives way to spring
Which brings
Back
Everything we
Cherish

2020 Albuquerque American Place Garden Psalms Poems Six Pack

if the moon can see my fire

Post author By Makar
Post date April 8, 2020
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Can the moon see my fire
As it passes over head
Both alight my night
And stave off the dread
Of all those things out
In the the darkness of all
Those things we cannot see
But if the moon can see my fire
I’ll spend the night outwardly

2020 Bird Song Garden Psalms Poems

More songs, No words

Words
Words
The power of words

If birds
Had words
Would their songs be more convincing?

Or would Love be lost
Too much meaning
The cost

Leaving one
Daft and
Confusing?

No, better
The bird
With more songs and no words

Just as rich
And prolific
Through the ages

What creations
Will we bring
When we’re left just to sing…

The poet
These words
These pages.

2020 Bird Song Garden Psalms Poems

Mr. Robins

Post author By Makar
Post date April 7, 2020
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Robin with
Your orange
Chest
You seem more
Than a bit
Overdressed for
Breakfast at
The Garden Club

As your mate
Waits on
The gate
You search
For a morsel
More. And
You share
What’s there
With your
Girl.

2020 Bird Song Garden Psalms Poems

Bird Cry

Post author By Makar
Post date April 7, 2020
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If I had a faster tweet
If I were more than this meat
If I could fly through the streets
If I could provide for thee?

Would you be up for it?

“I do not know
Where would we go?”

“To my nest
May we rest
— Together”

2020 Poems Shapes

Out Of Sync

It is the Language that will save us.
If the words don’t destroy us first. ~Mindscribe

We are asked to see the world as binary. We are given glasses with only two lenses — polar lenses in opposition of eachother, pulling your eyes with a strain so hard that the only choice is to close one of your eyes. But, we need bifocals at least, though we really use an array of lenses everyday. Ones for work, others for children, bare naked eyes for your lover — “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind” – Ghandi

2020 Poems

Barker

Post author By Makar
Post date April 7, 2020
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We priests
Of the dirt
Have gathered this bark

To bring
Fire and light
To your eternal dark

To set loose
This tongue
To remind the mind

That “you
Will have no
other Gods before me”

In dark
Robes these takers
Prepare what is not theirs

In justice
In gratiated
In kind in cantations

To evoke
Your fear
And provoke you into hiding

What spells
The Witchers
Cast to find you

Follow Your
Every move
Re-writing mind under blue lights

You lie
Prostrate
Waiting for enlightenment

Meditate
You must
In these powers greater than you

Bring to
The light
A word that can still be heard

Not still
Born on
The lips of false prophets

For the
Opening
Ceremony has just commenced

Put down
Your flags
Draw up your masks tightly

No spell
Can stop
The cast of blood that
Will baptize our new souls

2020 Garden Psalms Poems

Diviner

Post author By Makar
Post date March 29, 2020
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It is always
Quite peculiar to me
That in the spring
We must first destroy
Before we can bring new
Life to the light.

The mighty butterfly bush
Must first be hobbled
Before its May burst
Fragrant flowers of early
Summer. Cut back of
All the previous year’s
Ambition. Laid waste to
Stump and seemingly left
For dead. Yet, from
Every pore does pour a
Bursting of harnessed
Sunshine that sets out to
Entwine its frothy
Flowers up and out to
The sky. An offering
For the Father. (And the
Butterflies.)

Peaceful, the soils of winter
Frozen in time and distracted
From the ambitions of summer
Suddenly disturbed! Torn
Apart foot by foot. Every
Living thing destroyed to make
Way the people’s plan for the
Land. Focused fruits of
Labor, water, soil and toil.
Different traditions, each follow-
ing the Master, The Sun.
Timed only by its rising
Desire to burn existence into
Being. To breed green life to
Sustain the Diviner.