Hot face
meet cold desk.
Voices carry but not much sinks in,
because of course
you think
no, you KNOW
you could do better.
Fight the urge to speak out of turn
the monster clawing at your ears
clawing at your insides
tearing at your chest.
Spring is coming from everywhere,
possibly
Spreading, contagious.
Everything is moving
and I am not the biggest leaf in the woods
but my roots are coming up
and I am falling down
but at least I can interpret art in more ways than one.

at night when the still is visible
and i bank fluorescent tears,
my heart i bathe in blissless grace,
while i page the angry years

at night when the blanket covers
the indifference of the day,
we muse and we ponder
over our merry world and Frey

at night a dream in wander
find me in feeble sleep
and in a frantic moment
my psyche mount to steep

at night i hide my spirit
to disguise a conflict'd mind
and mull over Jove
and all the negations that bind

key slides the lock
pointlessness strokes her face
barren takes her coat
absent unties her shoes
futile removes her gloves
hollow is the hello

a cosy citadel
the bounty reaped
by winsome furtive eyes

each stone
Valentino, Cartier, Chanel

soft manicured hand
alights upon the switch
sombre pale light

eyes proud
heart sullen

man’s original question surfaces
Hamlet offers no solution

successful failure
opulent ugliness

Her throat constricts with a choking wail

poets final resort!
this singular site tis
of the world's best

here self styled poets
self mutually praise
double their comment

those like you and I
we finally lament.

don’t be amazed
Ii’s not like other sites
where they only praise
money you do so raise.

you have to read a lot friend

don’t leave with tears
towards the end
as tears can be discomforting too
then don't say
no one warned you

none the less
a happy innings
my new friend
to you too!

carousel wickedness
silk maruader

beneath the night
the bare light burns
achieving endless
grim nirvana

knuckles heat against
the threads
the Borne realm stitching
broken bone elocutions
wound like spiral helix

keeps of destinations

the dusk of riders
terse with dust

violet and frenzied

arrival at all deceptions
a great crush of Love
peirced
drug laced and
passioned

sharp as a pang

sure as a fang

Before the tell-tale heart stops
and the blue-blade falls,
before the drama closes and
the audience shuffles out,
exhausted, lame and breathless,

I will tell you one more lie,

my darling tamed beast, my
everything.

I woke to see the north star peeping in,
it shone, a beacon in the sky, bright golden yellow,
dark the blue, as night was not yet done,
though later its eclipse by light from that old sun,
made it appear to disappear from sight,
it only waits for fading light once more,
to visit my sky's open door.

I look ahead, what do I see?
stragglers on the path
of my parents' generation
as they top that distant hill.

The same hill which just
came into view
as the boomer mob approaches it
on the well worn twisting route
which remembers each step
each divide and stride.

And now I, a straggling boomer
turn to look behind
and to my surprise I see
sons and daughters looking at me
just as I looked at those ahead
just as all have looked
and always will

in the midst of morning mist
when shrubs, their petalled branches,
usher towards the sky
and trampled grass, though muted,
utterly refuse to die
where trees, in their devoir,
shadows cast that lull
and heaven, through woolly clouds,
the sun allows to shine,
i sense the heave of tired tides
invade the slumber of the day
till wearily the cumbered mass
retire to the borders of the sway
where wings inexhaustibly wave
at wooded lands and plains,
an eagle majestically climbs
the afternoon to prey

purient
cascade

fusilade
hush

candle ice
to be pushed
upon great rocks

whispering their
prayers of winters
death

alms drip by drip
the glisten
the birds aloft
white sketched
in vivid atrocities
wheel

listen

this wounded world
lit about the forty watt
revelations

cold coffee and two
hundred channels
Diazepam tremor dreams