you never thought to chew my lips like gum,
or scream your hurricane to flap my skin,
you never served your eyes to me like ***,
but breathed your name most like a thought within,

you were neither a virtue nor a sin,
i had no boast of you nor did confess,
never a scowl or howl but halfway grin,
you had a name my mind can not profess,

today you question me in much distress,
we met and spent the day but yesterday,
you claim you wore a pretty summer dress,
how could i not recall these things you say?

whoever you were, whatever your name,
to've met you or to not would be the same

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

to hate me is the only way to live,
for loving me is holding back the clock,
don't hold its hands, they'll break for they won't give,
and now these hands, your heart are made of rock,

your lips are sealed to me as with a lock,
and though i scream to you you'll have no speech,
our love you've pawned, our friendship you now hock,
and all my protestations can not reach,

your heart's allowed new love to seep and breach,
its torment's come from loving fully two,
both loves have grated on your nerves to screetch,
so now you bid your old one adieu!

and i, the one you swore you'd always love,
fall off the precipice by violent shove

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

the compensation for my competence?
     a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with sticky notes instruction-filled and dense,
     with worn old shoe string thick and tightly bound,
a brief hurrah before a list to do,
if time were air, with duty i'd turn blue,
     a present given as a false pretense,
  
his recompense? a crushed Coors can atop
     the boss' desk, a drop spilled on the wood,
a single sticky note stuck to the drop,
     "your list of things to do, i could, I should...
yet reach up to that single book, top shelf!"
("Learn How to Fix Your Life--Do It Yourself!")
     soon management will purge all its dead wood,

and driftwood i will be among the planks,
     and crates expelled above board for to stay
afloat, the company in all its ranks,
     will learn that without wood the boat will stray
not only from its sure intended course,
but from the surface to the floor of course,
     to join the tiger shark and manta ray,

soon supervisors, managers and such
     will join department heads, vice presidents,
chief officers valued, appraised worth much,
     thrown overboard to chase those dividends,
that sink so silently to ocean floor,
where there exists no air lock's safety door,
     when futures join the pasts through these presents,

my recompense for knowing when to quit?
     a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with smiling lips and laughing breath of wit,
     my happy feet in new shoes leather-bound,
a new ship where appreciation rings
the ship bells of respect on many things,
     smooth sailing through safe seas without a ground.

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

she barged so uninvited in my space,
so futile were my palms and outstretched arms,
forbidding her from entering my place,
mistrusting her that she may bring me harm,

rebuttals--counterpunches to my claims
that she was just another soulless ghost--
had penetrated fences, and her aims
to win my heart succeeded more than most,

but here we are almost a year from then,
i've pushed her off, she shares her heart with one
not me, but one who seems above all men,
and i have lost where once i thought i'd won,

now i'm the one who's barging in her space,
my own rebuttals falling in disgrace

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

here lies a name etched into marble stone,
a date of birth, a date of death as well,
a history that now has left its bone,
with nothing more to do, nothing to tell,

inductive reasoning may well infer
the tiny puzzle pieces into one
mere picture, full or partial, one interred
human, or not, you may as well be done,

i've lived an uneventful hidden life,
no accolades, nor sitting mute ovations,
but struggled unsuccessfuly in strife,
a lifetime night, with rare lightning occasions,

so now get up and walk along your way,
make room for other puzzled minds to fray

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

i wish, i wish, i were a simple fish,
that spends a thoughtless life in salty sea,
is hooked, and fried, and ends up on a dish,
deboned and sliced to pieces silently,

for i have been too human-like for me,
and cry out salty rivers held by dams,
for losses that, to fish, would never be,
with words upon my inner teeth enjambed,

yet if i were, the salt would grow by grams,
the sea in saltiness would **** all life,
before the fish had any chance to scram,
avoiding death to live with heavy strife,

for all my tears in water'd be unseen,
fish mouths agape would know not why they scream

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos

at the head
of the casket
receded hairline

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos