Through
the
looking
glass

on the sands of a shore
to
a
common park
an
African heart
views
global
art

We
fathom the winds
stave
the
tempest
that
stokes the grave

from
a lions roar
to
a humble dove
speak in tongues
none have heard
turning
sound
to
God's word

living
in straits
of
life above
Valhalla
here
the
gift of  love
.

The girl I’m meant to be
Will be thanking me
For writing all this poetry

Please, reveal to me
Lake of contemplation, my
Twisted visage

~
Sun drips
on leaves

not the backyard variety
but the trembling kind

the kind
that weld night-time
intermissions to
the roof of the mouth

sonnet-filled
evaporation
reveals
the timely concealment of
a very, weary
inanimate object
at the brink

just enough hip
to be woman

just enough wild
to be frontier
~

My black eyed----------widow

her diamond bottoms-- talking

My daddy long---------- leggs

her dead man's dreaded-walking

widow talking leggs walking

Here's to absent friends
and present worries.
For clear skies of blue
or storms and their furies.
To our now idle hands
and our unfulfilled dreams.
For the cough drop weekends
and the week full of screams.
To you and I and the we
that we've now become.
And to the many varied pasts
we stole each other from.
Because everything changes
that has once begun
and because after every rising
there's a setting sun.
I do not wish to know the wonder
and terror of whatever comes next.
I'm a terrible student
and life's a hell of a test.
And finally here's to you
my very big, little one
I'm a boy become father
because you are my son.
I hope you'll find peace and love
and all that you deserve and need
just please do your best, son,
but just don't follow my lead.