The  moon  within  your

eyes swallowed  my sky

and  the  very  fabric  of  

your soul glowed within  

my  heart.


I opened your chest and

tasted   your   soul ;

now my  tongue  drips  

with  moonlight   and

rose petals.


Your  gorgeous  chaos  was

a  danger  to  my  beautifu­l

ordinary life, and it was then

I knew that we might become

beautifully   extraordinary

together.
                                                                ­                        Jon York  2019

In the courtyard
Bare and unkempt
Is where you found me
Lost and without definition

Lighting my cigarette
Staring into my eyes
Taking this chance
I catch a glimpse
of your soul
through the bitter cold

Warming my hands
Individually
In the pockets
of my torn jacket
Fiercely unprepared
for what was to come...

I move
through gently opening embraces
and find myself
firmly enveloped in your luscious warmth
that urges me to push on further
until we reach the moment
  out of time and space
that holds us close
forever and again
  one
in a world of brilliant galaxies
  exploding
in deep space

talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans

rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
     in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
     for minorities and women
     treating immigrants like demons

neither fans nor his opponents 
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy

     throw them bones
     fodder for the yellow press

and while  they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
 
money laundering   blatant lies
scolding allies   breaking ties
adoring foes   praising those
     usurpers of democracies
     experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
     undermine  civility  
     with foul language 
fill all courts with servile judges

court the aristocracies 
         of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers

step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades  
      now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again

warning voices call in vain

no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)

I wake up
my arm
finds you not

only a pillow

you are not here

anymore