Keith J Collard

Keith J Collard Nov 2014

No care in the world,
war, death, or girl,
isn't it so arbitraire,
the beauty of a pearl--
or the color of her hair?
my mother died yesterday,
and I did not care.
Algerian cafes are nice,
but only with the glare,
that comes from the sea,
sending me so inwardly,
if x happens, or z,
it doesn't matter to me,
I don't see his face in the sand,
I know priests must make a living,
and dunes makes up this prison,
that is fine, but I rather parley
with wine--seaside  at the café--
why must religion,
always come from a prison,
maybe if it was out there,
he could walk on water
because of the glare,
and I can see the arbitraire
golden blond of her hair,
instead she cries,
that I am going to die,
and you messieurs,
might as well be x or y,
and religion arbitraire as  pearls,
can I have a smoke?
maybe I'l see him in the curls,
x or y, I still lose my life,
shooting a man with a knife,
now I am tiring,
I do not know why I kept firing,
it was so hot that day,
I was squinting, I could barely see,
oh her skin when she exits water,
I only wanted to get back to Marie,
drink wine with bagets,
under the river lining sycamore trees,
now messieurs, I ask you to leave,
for I am to die,
because for my mother I did not cry,
and you despair for me,
YOUR RELIGION IS SWEAT IN THE EYE,
we should be calling the waiter seaside,
YES I AM TO DIE,
FOR YOUR LIGHT,
IS  GLARE--
BRINGING SQUINTING DARKNESS TO MY MIND,
AND THAT ARBITRAIRE STARE FROM GLARE,
CAN BE X, Y, OR Z, I DO NOT CARE,
PEARLS, GIRLS, AND SMOKING CURLS,
MY DESTINY WAS TO DIE, AND WHY?
THE ARBITIRAIRE BEAUTY OF PEARLS,
I will miss her seaside,
I hope, the crowd cheers my death,
and the guillotine shines,
and blinds me back for good,
to the darkness of my mind.

Keith J Collard Jul 2014

American Peace ( Pax Americana)

Did the Pax Americana
come and go?
Is her statue, made of ice and snow,
Do I see her in the fire and now I don't,
Pax Americana, I hear her, as I go deaf,
I feel you
As red decorates slowly through my vest.

I am with you, in a tiny-- but vast land--
yet still on my back,
Watching sweat pick up crystal sand,
Your dune has no debris that I see
mid this blackened road--shining so beautifully,

My Lady of Pax, my lady of last laughs
that came from the briefing,
My lady of things one would want to last
Yet you stay now that I am bleeding.

Lady Peace, just like a goodnight kiss--
in respite, you exist,
This war all I've seen is their pretty olive eyes
and you are their lips,
You are here now as eternal momentary bliss.

Keith J Collard Apr 2014

Blue Hills

Blue hills "which way?,"
Path pines, form sunset gate.
Blue hills " I love you babe"
Titan pines without sway,
Light from sky trapped in titan height,
The height of light fights the sunset gate,
Blue horizon " I love you babe."

Keith J Collard Apr 2014

Etruscan Love

Go my husband, show the Romans how to die.

Poison will slip thru my lips,
As the gladeus slips your spine.

Go my love, give the Romans something to write,
Inhale the smoke, from the sacred Athenian grove,
The invaders burn where we were vowed man and wife.

Go my husband, show their might ~love is Etruscan,
That once ruled their tribe,
Look, the Roman General already wants a Greek wife.
And wants to spare your life,

Go,
Our love will make their spears sigh,
After defeat,
They run into their own swords, held by their trusted centurion chest high.
After defeat,
We run into each others arms,
For the last kiss on this side,
The enemy can know,
We gaze forever into each-other with death's unblinking eyes,
Go my love, show them what we value in life,
Preparing for the last tragic nuptial,
To find each other through the dark death night.

Keith J Collard Mar 2014

Chiton Centipede ('chiton pronounced: Chie-tawn)

Voracity is the centipede,
hunting in a-downhill-bleed,
pull what you think is a string,
to pitch your tent,
feel the centi clench,
and incision of dopamine,
your esophagus that screams,
could have had the segments and seams,
harking back to when the earth was steam,
when night jungle shines upon it,
with a red lens,
as it devours a tarantula,
adding a segment to its length,
sense the kinship,
sense the progenitor strength,
turn your red light on,
see the red esophagus of black chiton,
run for the zenith,
before the apex makes you bleedeth,
let your bayonet it bite on,
drop in alchohol,
and as a dragon,
it will soar and fight on,

beware the apex,
only the mountain,
set your sights on,
beware the early esophagus,
of red-neon, black chiton.

Keith J Collard Mar 2014

Snow-globe Lovers ( aka A mooshy poem, moosh mooshi in japanese, mush)

[ A young man and woman married under a street lamp during a snowstorm]

             Such wintry presents is incandescence, flakes shooting through magnificent lamp's orange glow, such a beauty contestant is my love spotlighted below,
white wedding lace is her hair that intercepts crystal snow.  I am her groom tall in suit dressed in drifting bank's dark soak.
     Those flakes incandescing, starting west then darting east, finally on her hair are resting, in that orange incandescence, give foot prints no longer lone .
      And night chimes of metal creaking signs, remind of just her and  I, and that is more than fine. For when weather vanes act insane, in that lonely night snow, and my prints are lone, she is near my heart staring up while standing on my toes.

So wonderfully lonely when the streets are dead,
under street lamps glow much magnificent,
Her snow flake lashes night sky has sent,
Our sole footprints in globes lonely presence,
Watching night snow turn incandescent.

Keith J Collard Jan 2014

Ruins of Love

It's ruined, random kiss,
mornings, sun, love renewing,
I sit on those sun bleached stones,
of our relationship's ruins,
toppled, symmetry of romantic Rome,
she says it's ruined,
but now we can be alone,
and with the palace undoing,
sunlight on her face has shown,
with the ceiling bluing,
sea breeze through her hair has blown,
ever pretty in my ruin viewing,
wall's wildflower for her I chose,
my love undying--stronger in ruins
holding hands to walk over stone.