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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To A Miss

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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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Nine to Five

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So poor is the man in his pointless toil,

For by standard virtuous he must be,

Never reaping the rewards from the soil,

In the darkness of this world’s horrid fee.

And should he be so inclined to wander,

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Our Times

ourtimes

Outlandish ponderous propositions,
From a red lady championing sordid lies,
Words imitating superstitions,
From behind deeply dead ocean blue eyes.

But what is to be said to such trappings,
Of voices in deceptive overtones,
Guised in rose petals and thorny wrappings,
To swim in shallows or the deep with stones.

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Creased Pages

IMG_3200 The stories written on your wrinkled brow,

Each a poignant reminder of living,

Your expressions say more than words somehow,

Of your uncertainty and forgiving.

Of a youth of struggles and such grand plans,

Meandering feet and wondering minds,

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