Love Is...

love is a mongrel mutt
that strips the meat from the bone
a rainy monsoon season that
leaves your garden unsown

love is a bastard child
a scandal of reputation defamed
born in a moment of lust,
an embarrassment unclaimed

Love is that bittersweet feeling
that empty cavernous ache
that fills your entire being
with memories of a fatal mistake

Some people say, ‘Life is war’
It could as well be the travails
Through thick forest of errors
Degenerated men created our wars
And damned the consequences

The restless child who says
The mother should not sleep
And cries all night for breast milk
The child too will not see sleep
Damn it, you don’t know my pains

For others, life is like a rat race
They steal from public coffers
Stash the loot in foreign banks
Crazy baldheads and fat belly
Damn all forms of corruption

There's spaces in between the atoms
which make up our familiar world
take care when you consider them
lest into their recesses you be hurled

These chinks, too tiny to be seen
hold realities best left alone
populated by strange denizens
made of something not quite flesh and bone

When the walls between grow weak
and those looking, chance to see
a glimpse of other universes, near
they convey strange tales to you and me

going to work
another person is closing
the opening world, belonging
to some final forever
in the dreams of their hands

flaking pigments rise
to the order of the dust
while the lords of sun rule the air with smells
below Cleveland street signs decaying their molecules
mathematically into summer's heat