Vivid memories
silently
cry out loud
everytime I look for
your face in a crowd
The ones I'm with
don't have a clue
I'm smiling at
them, but looking
for you.....

STRAPHANGING


Yikes! Von Eycks's
The Arnolfini Marriage
gets on the tube.



Circle Line....either it or
someone very like Vladimir Putin
and Vladimir Putin in drag


at the next stop
Grant's American Gothic
jumps through the door



just as it closes
they straphang
looking every inch of themselves



paint dripping from a graze
above an eyebrow
it's very unnerving



sharing a carriage
with great works of art
come alive



I really want to see
who gets on next
Van Gogh without an ear



but this is my stop
and work beckons
I get off but



nobody gets on
not even
a quick sketch



I mind
"...the Gap!"
almost trip over myself



the Arnolfini Marriage
and American Gothic
are discussing do they need



a ticket and what is money
they stare at me as if
"We know where you live sunny Jim!"



"Don't you dare tell!"
they yell
silently



the Putin look-alive
draws a finger
across a throat



the American Gothic
draws a zipper across a mouth
I give a frightened nod



the doors close
and somewhere
in a gallery



their empty frames
stare at
the dumbfounded tourists

Humans are by our natures
nurturers, we thrive when
giving, we take in stray animals
raise and love them like our own
children, if they by their natures
eat our sofa, crap on our carpet
we readily with charity forgive
them, clean up their mess and go on.

Is it not sad that we cannot always
extend or receive that same charity
of tolerance to or from the humans
in our lives?

the skyscape is flowing so naturally over our heads
the light brings alive shadowy sonatas over the hills
each hour the tone of its intensity is changing
such immensity for gentleness
I can't help but woder if a purpose of life is
the sense of beauty

Once many beautiful souls came here to share  
Their words of beauty, love, and despair
From every corner of the world they'd write
Pouring out their hearts with all their might

Their words would weave a tapestry
Of human life and history
But lately, something strange has occurred
those souls start disappearing, their voices unheard

No more verses from those who once wrote
No more stories, no more anecdotes
Their words have faded into the night
And their absence leaves us without light

What happened to those lost poets, we may never know
Perhaps their hearts grew weary, and they had to go
But their legacy lives on, in the words they've penned
Their voices still echo, in the hearts of friends

Yet still we hold a glimmer of hope
That one day they'll return and we'll elope
With their words and stories, once more to share
And their presence on the website, we'll again declare

So let us not lose faith in those we miss
For their absence may just be a momentary abyss
And one day we may find them, writing anew
Their voices once again joining the poetic crew