Only the moon
Defines our day
With orbit

Only sunshine
Allows our life

Only our ***
Creates our people

Only your love
Made me whole

Now moon drifts away
3.87 centimetres
Each year

The night shall stretch
And die

You left
All at once

Only I cry
I cry
I cry

Sometimes I wonder

if I even survived
my childhood.

Maybe some part of me
is sleeping
up on the hill.

One of those
Nightmares
That I couldn't escape
Carried me off
In its jaws

and so maybe
I am planted.
Looking down
At all the people
I can't remember.

I hope that I am ashes.
I never wanted a stone.

You were my perfect poem
Brief but of many lessons
Our life was the perfect paradox
For love I thought we could rhyme

You hated all I ever loved,I loved all you hated
You said dirt was clean and the sun was cold
You desired tears for years
And resisted all advances of happiness

All you hated I had to forsake
For our love was at stake
But like a toddler you had fun with my feelings
Leaving our blindest love in darkness reeling

Yet my greatest victory was losing you
My severest pain was my sweetest gain
You schooled me through experience
My all-time worst teacher

You were my perfect poem
Eternity would be short to describe the undescribable
For when my hand is strong to hold the pen
Then my heart is weak to pen the words

Thousands of us were displaced
Started careers late
Not lucky enough to have had great jobs

So we work hard
Put ourselves through night school
While taking care of family

Finally ...
Yes, yeah,  whoopee
Did it !
Once again completed school

Another certificate added to the growing list of achievements.
More bills owed to uncle Sam

Going on numerous job interviews
No one's responding
Instead ...
All this knowledge stored in your head

Current jobs pays minimum wages
Those colleges attended; mounting

When you try to get ahead  -
They hold on to their employments
As if,
It's Rocket science

Looking for younger, greener admits

Once AARP comes a knocking on
Your door
You know they don't want your
Expertise anymore

What's one to do
Still strong, healthy, seasoned
Educated, no strings to boot

Hopelessly stuck in a world of
"We will call you "

So at the tender age of fifty
Thoughts of starting your own business floats in your head

Right
Now, back to school
For another certificate
A chance to use that knowledge
Put bread on the table
Feel useful

Quality of life renewed.

JRap /2016

some believe in the deity
others in the sanctity of self
I think poetry is a religion
a soul unto itself
not a god
but close
and I seek her his its
calming words
wisdom
to get on my knees
and worship
every night
alone
here
in my sanctuary
like any
true believer

There are some who may prefer a cloudless sky and the touch of a warm sun. These hearts are similar climates, and you may find them at no great distance from the equator.

Not mine.

My love is for the sedge and moss covered upland of frozen lakes, where the cold white blanket covers the steppes. Peace is found here, among the ice and whispered within the biting gale as it travels over her skin.

Her chill breath touches me, and I am not driven away.
For within my chest beats a fire as black as space between the stars.

And I go unclothed, as the caribou carry me across the frozen land.

I am the horned god.