Affairs and Rains

Affairs, as with the spring rains

that pour over a heart’s tragic fall,

will wash away dearth’s pains

and repair the wounds of winter’s awl;

filling old wounds by sprouting creative veins.

Mess-i-cans

They work like mules

For wages kept in pools.

They keep together

No matter the leather

That strikes them so lucid

With offending whips rigid

Until their blood ran frigid.

Beware of ships ashore bringing plight

Of their old-world privilege and presumed right

With steel helmeted conquerors

Insisting the dicta of the preemptors

Who slave their service

And subjugate the natives as a premise

That forward: brown skin                                                                                            

Wear as the King’s nameless kin.

Understand those mess-i-can hordes

Wii become extensions of old Aztec cords

That will rule and regain

Once their blood’s offerings reign

Flowing north as the red sunrise

Crosses plains of the blue skies.

Desperate Hours

The reasons for the day towered

Over the desperately few hours

 

And yet, with every tear shed

Each inexorable minute sped

Away with life and rhyme

 

Leaving dearth and dour

To reign upon the empty streets

As words abandon paper sheets

While a poet’s touch - bled.

Handsome Ed & Pretty Sue

Handsome Ed and Pretty Sue

 

Handsome Ed.

Pretty Sue.

 

She is young and full

Of a long life of expectations

And promises

And yearnings-

 

Living along a gravel road

At the end - around a semi-bend

 

A wooden house with wide open windows

And a lovely garden with a white picket fence

 

The front room of blue; burning fireplace

She wore garments so fertile

 

And he touched her so - upon her sleeve.

A Harbor Waves

The ground moved time still

While seas ran the harbor walls.

Dear lives flowed thru the spill

And the cold night’s squalls

Shriek death’s eyes awake.

Her form rising into full quake-

Calm shall return to the warm sands

As a heaven waits with folded blessed hands.

Octopus

The tentacles of the octopus lover

Move her presence deep beneath the seas

 

Where being is total darkness - no one sees.

And her cold oceans roil with lustful cries.

 

Heaving waves high thru indigo skies

While raging against the long frigid night

 

Until sweet dawn whispers...

 

calm thy might.

A Ravel’s Cause

The ravel of the mind has strings

Of fragile weave and manic threads

 

A sew of raging seas

like no one sees-

 Unraveling ... unraveling, it is all

 

Unraveling

And the endless noise rings

Up madness of midnight’s dreads

 

Unraveling ....

 

it’s all unraveling.

Night Light

I fear not the night

For I know not the light -

Yet, that darkness has a place

That loves this old face …

- and so, there is haste

That knows the plight

Of time set alone – set aside

A madness that will abide

All reason for total waste

For there is no more to ride.

A Place and Time

In this place where the land escapes

The ambitions of the social masters

And the engineers with civil maps –

 

Quietness reigns over the pastor’s psalms

that warm like a velvet cape.

 

Time waits patiently for her hours

To restore the detritus to that eternal place

Alongside failed terms and dreams lost-

 

Both haunted by stillness

and in their glorious blessedness - embrace.

 

For their progeny has and will then be -

Held in vilipend view - just the same.

The Madness in Mirrors

I am – who – am I

You are Me

We are you

Reflection is us

Here within the mirror

Madness is shadowed

Id is faceless

Ego is fearless

Each more - is less

Existence lies between

The notion that sees

And the eye that knows

Neither swan belongs

To either one

Nor survives alone

The white feathers

Upon the black wing

Spiral unto the abyss

I am – who – am I

Moon’s Mate

There came a time when rhyme was gone

And the only flight leapt a window

That was open for path unto next dawn.

Angels shall keep a stone for a widow

To stir the old days alive again

Ecstasy demurred for one more pain

And for all intents and purposes a pawn

That will mate alone with king’s drone

For each evening has a moon wish – alone.

Rural Folk

Rural folk are not easy to know-

But not so difficult to understand.

If the interest is about common land-

Then they see a common foe.

 

Country roads are long and lonely-

When they cross, they lead away

And they hold direction only

For those who have not lost the way.

 

The land is flat patterned grids

Where work is a religion

And no one doubts their legion

As they tend to the harvest bids.