Will the sidewalks
of delimination
give up the steps
short of
the shoehorned dreams

Those deposed days
under autumn's oath
with prejury and prejudice

Not one of
if I am willing
but
one of Cain enAbeling
the complicated

The judge agreed
it was a first ,
in the first degree

I looked at mom
suspiciously
every time she
said
"eat your vegetables !"

Collecting stones from river bed of life

Finding silver and gold in it

Gathering dead shells to make sound

Standing with passbooks and checks
Finding more safe with bank
To check the balance of assured old age health

I felt me,
Sad, anxious with a heavy heart,
Then I looked at me in the mirror,
Not bad, pretty,
It smiled, quirky,
With a bit of mischief.
Hmm,
I looked back again,
It had confidence,
Gone was the sorrow,
It burst into laughter,
I felt better.
29/10/2024

I am the moon,
I too have my phases.
27/5/2019

Was my neighbour's daughter,
She was blossoming into a beauty day by day,
Her fragrance played havoc with my senses,
So I became her butterfly,
Hovering around her night and day.
29/10/2024

She cried a lot
As her play went wrong
One scene was missed
to find the dress kept on drum

Dress which was to change
was misplaced by someone to disarrange the things

She cried a lot
Nothing went wrong
Mentor told in good tone

But she cried a lot
Spectators did not know
any thing missed

But she said
"I am not crying for them
I am crying for me
Which I missed was precious to me"

I've been to the crushing
place.
It smells of death, and
spider mums.
Daisy chains dropped
when the music died.
The lake is murky now.
Clowns roam the street,
looking for carnivals
and meat.
Silly boys still believe
in love and dreams, and
girls that like opera and
giving head.
This world is strange, and
Picasso walks the lonely
avenues, feeding
seagulls' peanuts and paint.
No one blames him.
It's his blue period.
All the while,
an old bent man plays
the guitar.
He smells like camels,
and hope.

amor tardius occidit
We should have
been so much
more.
Now we're just a torn
page
in a finished book.
The memories are
fading,
but the pain still lingers.
I still smell you on
my fingers.
I still taste you on
my tongue.
Love kills slowly;
a backward glance from
an invisible god.
I'm a bird that sings,
but cannot fly.
I'm the ticking of a
clock.
A rocking chair.

tick

tock...