the magician
inticing those who dare
enter the tent
enter the life
prefomance
being everyone and anyone all at once
acquiring attention, a manipulation
graciously given
dollars
time
trust
in hopes of entertainment, some fulfillment
it’s an illusion
smoke and mirrors
fake things appearing real
the lies and tricks are self comforting
the horrors here are real
vivid
dark
unrelenting nightmares
the frightened patrons hide their eyes
many run from the horror truth

jussa a moment pleeze!

moment and time
are the same things..
what you want to say
as Shakespeare did,
time and tide wait for no man...

everything in life is opportunity,
if a gal swipes her lips
she wants a kiss,
which if not taken you miss..?

if she wants you to say
I love you
and you don't hear
it’s up to you,
you lost her my dear...

Bright, bright the day,
it isn't may,
no heavy cloud,
no wind,
no sudden sight of gusts
that yesterday 
asked leaves up to dance;
wind still,
it silently came in at dawn, 
in pale attire,
and filled the scene with melancholy light,
with here and there a splash of brightened woods, 
as sunlight permeated through the view,
that well known smooth horizon, 
across the window's wide,
that reached into the mind,
as peace perceived and satisfied. 

Irony
insists on
these two things:

your tongue taming
the yellow.

I forget
what
the other is.

I was once some kind of gun
rifle or shotgun, doesn't matter
then a gun buyback was begun
I got destroyed with a loud clatter

Me and others just like me
were cut and melted down one day
at a recycling steel mill don't you see
I mixed with iron scraps thrown away

Part of me was shipped to one place
some of me went off to another
I assumed another form and face
I was reforged with little bother

USELESS ENDEAVORS

Do you miss my poetry
did my words tell you more
than what you read
didn't you see
yourself in me.

I am the particular to the universal
a microcosm of the human spirit
a magnificent perfection of imperfection.
I showed you a soul.
Did you see it.

I showed you my gypsy heart
my longings,
my melancholy.
Did you feel it

Do you miss my poetry
or do my words die
in the saying
do my thoughts languish
in their caress............

Surfaces smoothly reflect,
unearthed in this time of lights.
Small and large pieces of paper
litter like letters from a gone war.

Children run in Caribbean colours,
women in stretched black.
The tinnitus city drums softly.
Map arteries weave and congest.

Aquarium nights
dream greetings.
The past arrives all broken
and listing towards the right.

sweep me
beneath my passing
You bespoke my passion
for all your faults

I took you brand
and before the high hand
laid down it

here I am now
the yoke
of a cheiftan
on me

I have twins
arriving
speaking
Pretty eyes

sweet twenty five

"Shinning twins"
annointing mascara
on blue visions
showering
in our showers

cell phone acrobats
with words
scrawl massages

Im Hungry Jesse
and you say
with surety

not so good... your fear of death -

if man can overcome fear
of the unknown, death
man will rise
without any surprise
above all inner collusion
and confusion

Mould long beneath winter's cold white cloak
stirs in the breezes of spring, its thaw,
bugs develop in the sudden warmth, 
leaves heave in relief, some made into a pictures
collaged to a stone or gathered tight together
making strange new sculptures of random shape, 
as the march winds tear them from their resting place
they take to flight, as if to live a second life.
 
Now faded, dressed in browns and murky greens,
caught up, they cartwheel down the paths we tread,
beside us as if to compete, spinning like wheels