Liked

a sea with no beginning

grey days

a bored world

scratches on the vinyl

fingers laced

if I could…

as though in love

(the only thing I liked

was the music)

a naked wind

the Sun dawns spectacular

with the subjugation of the day

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Two Thousand and Seventeen

bum-sleeping-by-blek

 Starving street rats bicker o’er crumbs of bread,
In gutters flooded with a pestilence,
The promise of the morrow in the wind fled.

Listen as men of no consequence said,
As golden tongues lick in malevolence,
Starving street rats bicker o’er crumbs of bread.

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City of Trees

by-the-river

And if nimble fingers could penetrate the dappled canopy

I could touch light itself.

Or to even brush the fingers of giants,

tracing their palms with my fingers.

I feel an understanding, a knowing.

I too sway;

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The First Encounter

love-hate-fear-spirituality

Oblivious to the ochre sky-
Ensnared in dreams,
As a darker red stains the lips
with sips of yen,
The restrained sentiments,
So agonized in the percolation
of wavering eyes,
The heat of the setting sun
throbbing as the heart,
In time with the other;
At our first encounter.

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To A Miss

img_2801
I, dancing in my own bitter disgrace,
Washed and hung out and my mind unaligned,
And with my memory I did erase.

Unable to maintain a fitful pace,
Body and soul so utterly resigned,
I, dancing in my own disgrace.

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Ten Pills

1

One pill;
For my merciless and raging tempest.

Two pills;
For the voices acknowledged as my own.

Three pills;
For howling dogs stalking my promenade.

Four pills;
For forgetting what was to become of me.

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