~

In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions

Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance

Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
*the deserved rewards

-

Everywhere I look there is garbage,
the streets are littered with it
People are walking around blind,
they can’t see what is right before their faces,
calling to them from the gutters,
pulling at soiled pant legs

And a guy offers kool aid on the corner,
as another yells, “it's sour!”
Yet still the line is around the block,
though there’s nothing special about his drink,
it's not much different in colour or texture, but still they flock,
perhaps out of fear, maybe thirst

Noise is at extreme levels from both
sides of the street, horns blowing, sirens wailing
“Hey, watch where you’re going, idiot”
Babies crying and dogs barking
Screeching tires complain about red lights
only to peel out at the green

I search my pocket, one quarter,
that’s it as far as change, which makes sense
nothing ever changes, ever…
I hold it in my fingers looking up,
heads I stay, tails I leave as I toss it in the air
and it is stolen before it ever hits the ground

I guess I’ll just get in line for the kool aid,
it is free…if you can stomach it

~

Upon a canvas
   blank slate in white
    mind’s eye frontier
  brushstroke whispers
   blended thoughts
    horizon’d dreams
      coating the landscape
   of my every desire
reckless shades
      pushed in place
  dripping from center
       in abstract fountains
   of youthful design
      capturing hand prints
   in wet cement
     dangling from gallery walls
    black on black
        framed visions
   as one more
    masterpiece
collects dust
    in the hallway
          *of my soul