The crooning broke through the silent night
Kids of a small settlement scamper with fear
What peripatetic spirit the dogs have seen
Night birds sang along, yomo nkuku ku-ku

You ate my food and laugh with relish
You eat yours and shed crocodile tears
Because you don’t want to share with me
A capon blubbered, yomo nkuku ku-ku

The hunter’s lamp cast its rays on the leaves
Reflecting on the eyes of a strange owl
Cold chill raise tiny hills on the skin
The seeker mimicked, yomo nkuku ku-ku

I'm too old for this, family gatherings
hosted during the holidays
where family thinks hashing out stinking crap
is the highlight for the evening

Highlighting each other's shameful dirt 
airing out dirty laundry, and 
throwing dead bones from the closets, upon
everybody's heads, not my idea of family bonding

the bled grey edge
these sepia words
resting heavy

the heart waits
and forest dark
recieves the hush
of thought

history dreams
and ghost gestures
now

the walk alone
while I wait
for the greenery
to be exhalted by
winters reception

these days of
hungry being
my own

ON LETHE'S SHORE

[alzheimer's]

Before they cross the river Styx
they drink of Lethe’s waters clear
to forget what remembering is.

it was from a distant shore
I saw you linger there
and when you took of the magic
you turned and looked
but didn't see me anymore

That thou sayest deep

Makes me swim
In waters deeper
And
From the soil, they call earth,
Emerge as a vine's creeper
And
Amongst roses, breed myself
And
Bow to you for your courtesy
And
Help...

Let me now vow, to never shirk
To compose poems,
That upon human psyche shall work...

November

ominous is the sky
roiling clouds in shades of gray
reminders that all things die
no mention of rebirth now

portents of the dying
from the horizon
no time now for crying
so wipe the trears away

winter crisp in the air
harbinger of death's decay
while stiff wind strips branches bare
through them falling flakes do dare

After all these years
the long road ahead
is shorter than the
vision I leave behind

I'm driving slower these days
walking to places
I have yet to go
with unwritten poems

the sky above me shaking
the ground below me
like dust
I gather myself
once more

to see the sunrise I can never
write into a poem

to feel the warmth of your love
I can never put into words.

c

I wanted acceptance
instead I fell into the deep hole
of revelation

I desired love and
found poetry walking with my
cross heavy on my shoulders

I wrote poems and rolled away the stone
Jesus was weeping inside
bleeding at the thought of nails

angry with just cause I joined a group of saints
on a pilgrimage across the desert
of our humanity

we stopped at a well and here I saw myself
for the first time
thirsty and covered with ten thousand years

tears filled my absence

Inspired by Tunisian uprising
Arab spring rose to a crescendo
Violence and death trailed along
Like soup pot sitting on fire
The content moved up and down
Topsy turvy, they rocked with heat
Martyrs bunt black and thrown away

Eroded middle class clad in uncertainty
The poor dwells in shallow graves
Wireless calls, a march to city centers
Wall Street took a peaceful lead
See multiplicity of suffering people
Intrigues and politics on human lives
World economy skewed in shambles

Olden years are cast in gold
Like firm memories
They stay for eons
Yet seem as fresh, as the morning dew
Then as we recall
A ball of can bursts
We see light anew,
As we retread over memories past

Recall the Hiroshima twas as if just yesterday
Some memories never fade away
And
Till the ultimate day we feel like twas just
A happening of today
Happy 1942 to you
And
Many more shall come your way,
This only Loved can pray and say.