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Crow Mar 2019
gaze at me and slight the moon
and all the stars in her company
then to your melody shall I attune
my love for you a symphony

come with me on silvered way
weave moonflowers in your hair
then to the bower we will stray
and long I’ll kiss you there

sit with me at basin’s bound
fount in your light agleam
with falling stars you are crowned
and in beauty reign supreme

give your love to me alone
though all may seek your favor
when they depart false lovers flown
Cupid’s grove we then will savor

cast your cares in fire’s heart
and dance with me till dawn
I’ll be your artist and you my art
our love goes ever on
Crow Mar 2019
professor Burke and professor Lee
two mathematicians who could not agree

loudly voiced their differences at half past noon
having daily lunch at the Greasy Spoon

the subject on the fateful day was Pi
and they could not see eye to eye

a disagreement on the thousandth digit
had Burke turn red and caused Lee to fidget

said Burke “No you are off by one!”
spat Lee “Your math is poorly done!”

Burke shouted, “Lee, you have gone too far!”
reached toward the counter for a candy jar

but his hand instead encountered pie
a hideous gleam sprang to his eye

he flung the pie with all his might
hit Lee full face, eyes wide with fright

but Lee recovered and found more pies
Boston Creme took Burke between the eyes

apple, custard, lemon, berry
pecan, pumpkin, key lime, cherry

pies of every kind were thrown
plates' radius squared remained unknown

the police arrived to break up the fray
took the two meringued men away

many hours later in the quiet cell
with pie for ink and tempers quelled

the two stood looking at the wall
upon which lay their equation scrawled

said Burke, with both their faces long
“Well, what do you know. We both were wrong.”
In honor of Pi Day. With gratitude to Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy.
Crow Mar 2019
we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections
Crow Mar 2019
nothing hurts me
like your pain
Crow Feb 2019
your tenebrous image enraptures me
future’s heat brands me with you
your silhouette fills my vision
but all your features are hidden

calling to me in a voice I know
but have not yet heard
a shout made a whisper
you are so many years away

always I have known you
sensed you by your absence

I chafe and fret, anxious and
expectant of your arrival
believing it imminent

eagerly I shut my eyes to
what little I know of you
trusting as only callow
youth allows that no
more is needed
than my open arms

I see you everywhere
impetuously I give my heart
only to find no synchrony
even the lineation was wrong
each time it is not you
you are still
far from me

yet I am wrenched forward
I lurch undiscerning, heedless
pressed forever into rashness
by all consuming urgency for you

endless, fruitless searching
confusion and despair
my constant companions
lost in a torrent of nothing

like one freezing
in lingering polar night
to stop is to die, helpless
I stumble towards providence
An account of my unfortunate teenage years. It is a follow on to Separated By Birth.
I have made some changes as I felt some things were in need of clarity.
Crow Feb 2019
when we are young we practice love
though we know not a whit thereof

each pang we suffer our heart askew
must be certain sign of love most true

each time our heart is cut and bruised
is a lesson taught of love misused

a stern instructor of teenage years
life keeps teaching through our tears

but pain and sorrow are love’s only school
we must attend if we would learn this rule

it’s not love itself which does us wrong
but the lying tongue and deceiving song

no love gone bad is not to blame
it’s a selfish heart to which love’s a game
Written primarily about teenage love, but the lesson holds true
Crow Feb 2019
take my hand and don’t let go
hold God’s hand with your other
give no attention to what you hear
it is only murmurs of lies
words which are of no substance
the sounds of phantoms
they want to destroy you
to cause unbearable pain
to everyone you love
do not listen
please


do not let go with either hand
so that you cannot take
the hand of Death
when it is offered
For my friend, Tim. Who, two Saturdays ago, let go of a hand.
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