Snow breaks
Amongst a warmer
Cloudless sky,

Streams of tiny rivers
Down one’s window paine
& remembering
What is left
Of last winter’s angel wings;

Where soft straw
& twisted overturned twigs lay
beneath moist darkened
earth strewn across like hay,

Revealing mixed patches
of budding marsh green,
the new color scheme,
as itself Life decides
in of itself, in Spring
to give it another try.

I am grateful
for the blue in the sky,
melting snow
over its horizon,
its impermanence.

(8 April 2022)

Count the rings
they will tell you my age,
On the Day
Her wide eyes spit venom
Burning my Soul
to the bone and searing my heart closed forever…

As she walked away,
I no longer existed to her…
I was no longer there in the passing-by
And moving-on left me invisible,
Ignored and condemned;
Left to learn what is meant
To be
Unforgiven….
(22 July 06)

Inside
is where one's Truth
lies colorful uninhibited
doubtful creatively hesitant

where I'm inappropriate

& remorseful guilty
painstakingly obvious,
but nonetheless honest
& Real.

A subjective
relationship
sinking fast
& choosing & deciding
distinctively to deceive
ourselves too...

A Poet’s House
those scattered
letters  & inflections …

Where upon
syntax & words
underneath Ones’ simile
is a place for syllabic prose
to rest & hide…

Dactylic upon memories’ shelves

Casted cacophony
reflected back
In pentameter’s youth
upon Our mantle
where crisp corners
of parchment turn
set a fire
& forever burn.

(26 April 2022)

We                                                                              
Casts portraits
centuries more than a day;
captured pieces
of Life eroding away.

We found beauty in its decay
& impressions sublime.

Isolation
Whispering
amongst the ruins
& congruent lines
abandoned by Time.

Vestiges & Echoes
of that which cannot
& did not last;
memoirs, records
or mementos of a
once distant past.


Symbols
Grey
Lacking luster, or rust
changes of color,
flaked peelings
crumbled into dust.

Cobwebs
gathering moss
bent over branches
Roots extended
dried out
from thirst
spoiled soiled

fallen
brown leaves,
scattered twigs
& broken glass.

Revealing a different
age from long ago
& eons since
have now grown old.

Where a River
once knew
the darkness
that reckons
& beckons
a mortal
twilight sky.

& I alone
was left to see
in its spaciousness Die.

(8 Sept 21)

Water or blood
It’s raining !

A baptism or sacrifice

It washes somethings away
Makes it pure...
Makes it clean...

Blood between the thighs
Does it make one pure?

It cleanses
the Body
or  the Soul...

One’s attitude
To Change.

The mind
a priceless gift
immemorial,
however,
flawed
the spirit without
cannot lift.