To spring’s Rebirth we looked
For reprieve from Orange Men,
Black Mamba gone too soon,
And the grey skies of faded winter afternoons.
Instead of azaleas and cherry blossoms’ magical fraicheur,
And the societal balm of sport-
Greeted in the soft spring light by Pandemic’s frosted darkness
First in the East, did Calamity raise her call to war
But as Rome in Carthage’s destruction did Old Calamity head West
Yet again it was Italy to suffer and raise its alarm
The People were crushed by the vice of disease
But further did they fall through their own Vice
and ignorance of values dear and established Law’s precepts.
A return to communal Glory’s past, they tried-
Further did they wander into the Hinterlands of Humanity
Finally these diverse, united peoples
Began to trust
In the road to Lady Liberty
Through song that overpowered Isolation
Spring’s rebirth seemed possible
But Calamity’s thirst was not yet quenched
And to America’s shores did she travel -
With zeal and fervor for destruction
The gates were open to catastrophe
Indeed did we welcome fire and brimstone
Without the means of final Victory.
Much as we did talk, action came too slow.
Burning like the Bushlands
Fools continued drinking and gathering
Ass-like in belief
That what soothed in days of old
Would throw Calamity over the Wall
But No.
Grace of seasons past existing only
In the Hinterlands of collective memory
Spring’s Rebirth would wait another year.
Like sport and summer’s breeze on outdoor cafés,
We hope she comes back soon,
With Lady Reason as a boon.
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 12:01 PM UTC
Twisting, turning, rumbling, tumbling in my stomach
Out of the blue it turns into a roaring sea-I’m awestruck
This change strikes me so quickly
I couldn’t have even seen it coming
It makes me anxious—my head is ringing.
It thrills me—like the top of a rollercoaster.
It takes my breath away.
Atop a mountain the wind threatens to knock me over
Yet the feeling is too great—where I want to be is closer.
Vulnerable.
Twisting, turning, rumbling, tumbling in my stomach
Like day and night—I’m awestruck.
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
The greatest thing that ever happened to my writing is the disquiet in my head
And in my soul.
The raging storm which has made me cower,
Against this I have no power
And yet, these tribulations
Cause the ink of my pen to flow
Like the waterfalls of faraway lands
If I were happy, balanced and in control,
My writing would be banal, boring-
Uninspired
In my darkest hours and bleakest days
My writing has flourished
Beside my withering soul.
Sadness- I thank you
Anger- Please don’t leave me
Raging storm inside my head- Drench me.
For you flood my pages with the brightest words of my heart and soul.
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 9:00 AM UTC