a shining star which gleams for you
a shining star above
its light a glowing guiding torch
a shining star above
of glowing guiding lovely past
which gleams to light our way
a shining star that guides our path
a light that leads away
*
a shining star which gleams for you
a shining star afraid
its sparkle cold which draws us in
a hold we venture there
a shining star above our hearts
and peace beneath our feet
which brightens now the fallen snow
which melts our weary flesh

Darkness lies upon the land
like a chill and clammy hand
No breath does stir, nor fill a breast
Icy cold grips your chest

Eyes strain to see, familiar sights
here on this eve, this hallowed night
Whispers of my victims' voices
ask me why; they were my choices

You were deserving, I holler out
The graven-stones repeat the shout
Now the simple windy sigh
makes me scream in reply

You did all those nasty deeds
and on your body I did feed
You are now and here immortal
I say to them and I chortle

i found it strange
that i am waiting
for the day before the dawn
along this setting of the sun
within this arc of arcing ray
waiting for the alarm bell cocking
crowing on the day of day
i found it strange
this hesitant
this dark before the fall of night
and on this ebb of ebbs it follows
as the light trickles double
as the moon has twice his way
but just before the evening hollows
and turning night turns into day
i found it strange
how noon days sun
often turns to midnight moon

Childhood memories,
played to an afternoon rain
while rainbow watching.

That corona garland, worn by few
May be piously brandished by the chosen,

Who by human sleight, in distance gone,
Tried to impress an angry god, with
Good deeds done.

Years have passed, and those left to
Burnish halos above the pews

Grow mute, and faint, inside
The stone façade, outside a fattening Sun,
Bakes the sandstone enclave hard.

The brocade of landscape, drying to brown,
Is burning beyond those sainted gates,

A memory,
vague misty grey,
sees a little girl at play.

Her brothers there,
no voice, no face,
just a void of empty space.

Fragmented shards
of clarity
filter through the murky sea.

He threw a fork,
with no intent,
it was just an accident.

A gaping hole
between her toes.
Tears trickling down her nose.

Her parents arms,
although unseen,
lifts her up, as in a dream.

No noise, no sound,
just bloody pink,
swirling round the kitchen sink.

This poem
called on me
today.

Only two words
came
to ask if I would
like to
play,

Let
Love...

Yes, just
Let
and
Love...

Your heart
can write the rest.

I'm too busy
dancing.

I need to look at days gone by
To see if there are things that I
Have missed in my every day
Things at work and then at play

Do you know the things I miss?
A stolen look, that long soft kiss
The talks of love and other things
The friends I had, then my siblings

Things that may seem every day to you
To me they are lost, I can never renew.
It is an age thing I hear you faintly say
If I turn my hearing aid up all the way

Time to hang the coat on the hook
obey the curator's chiding look
and stare at the roaring darkness till dawn.

A sleepless night of hourly chimes:
Aubade is worth two lifetimes
of rummaging for a philosophy of death.

Here is the Poetry, left on the shelf
by the fast generation, weary of wealth
rushing ever nearer, to the unexamined end.

Where all days collide and darkness brims;
He gladly sucked through thickest rims
to the ever decreasing circle of his eye.

When the final curtain falls upon my eyes
while the Gods haggling sounds like barks
and winged creatures do battle high above
for whom will obtain my life’s spark
as I return to the great void
to see where I will be deployed

While few who walk upon the soil
Speak my name
as darkness deepens in my brain
and deaths winter overtakes paralyzing all my ends
then the screen of life runs in reverse
before me I see all my turns and bends
have I let myself be sub-versed