(this piece was written during my Nonfiction MFA back in 2006–2008)

“Remember, God loves you. He created you in his image. He knew you were coming. He loves you.” I say this to him each time I leave.

“The Truth?” He asks.

“The Truth.” I reply.

He smirks from underneath…

(another, older Memoir piece from my undergraduate days)

The annual Portland Maine Jewish Film Festival is on its first night. The movie theatre is cramped, packed to the elbows with elderly Jewish women. The sounds of Yiddish, Hebrew, broken Russian, Polish, echo through the room, with a minor silence around…

Despair and Faith in the Writer’s Process to Be.

(this is a re-write of my Craft talk from VCFA in 2008)

In a small café in Roma, just a few days after the love of his life, Lou Salome, had rejected his second marriage proposal, gathered in the ashes of…

(wrote this in 1999 for a poetry writing class as an undergraduate)

Lost In My Adolescent Dream

Nine-year-old seraph,
buried deep below the covers,
hidden from the woolen beast,
huddled, fetal and fearful,
a shape often on my mind,
praying to not be found.
Roaming the lands of perdition,
lost in my Adolescent dreams.

Wandering…

Terrorized (Nonfiction/Memoir)

(I wrote the first draft of this in 2002 as an Undergraduate and later revised it in 2008 in my MFA at VCFA).

Who dares to call the child by its true name?
The few that saw something like this and, starry-eyed
But foolishly, with glowing hearts averred
Their feelings and…

As if someone had drop-kicked an Irish penguin

The devout woman, flew

Back, head first,

Her arms splayed in the air

As if someone had pushed Gestas to the ground for their impenitence,

The shadow of a cross heavy, falling

Down, head whacking concrete,

That awkward arrival that happens when a person

Has not been knocked down enough to know how to land.

Desperate to catch her breath,

And staring up at heaven,

Seeing God for perhaps the first time in the form

Of a thrice divorced harlot cocking back, The Fallen,

Nose banished from face like an unclean spirit,

Eye’s struggling to see the Glory at her feet,

Summer’s mid-day lights flashing off of ringed fingers.

When I was seven I watched my mother beat up a nun.

I have drank from your horn
Raven God-
Wolf God-
See my ochre banners waving.
Sees my blackened sails raised.
I have crimson-misted the evergreen at your altars,
Made blóts in your name,
Skalded kennings to you in the Winter morning Yule:
But who would hear my charm?

I run…

Cascading dragons on the frigid sunrise,

Bobbing up and up-and down.

From Midgard the serpent’s tail,

The Raven standard upon her sail,

The beast’s womb of Aesir men,

Magnificent feet wrapped in linen.

Biters skinned and bane of arrows mount

Braided beards and frozen frowns,

Come here the hiss of frosted breath

The rattle of chainmail upon their haggard chests.

Odhinn smiles in Merrymoon,

‘Neath the gentle swarm of far-swum blues.

Dar al-Morazz

Writer, Professor, Philosopher, Occult Historian, Sufi, Pasta Lover, Rare Disease Fighter. MFA@VCFA (2008); MFA@Newport (in-progress).

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