Smelling sapphire, looking mahogany;
The nymph's grunts cast demons of
Frigid feelings out of my body--
Possessed by her legions of love.

But the images of her left with me--
Of her graces good and warm essence,
Are now in the mirror of my memory
Reflecting, like shadows in the waters.

In the lowland fens at the worlds end,
Like the ferryman, a blue heron waits,
Eyes of dragon fly, hover, over still water,
His legs are the oars rowing to the dead.

Accumulated
old letters upon my desk
some are bittersweet.

-M.H.-

Words can cut like knives.
Do you know how deep they cut?
I’m afraid to ask.

You will not be able to
Open nor bolt your door;
Answer nor dial your phone;
Send nor reply a text
For you had  already said goodbye
To this world, en route to the next.

My vision went black
All my senses were numb
But somehow
I knew I had to get out

Religion is cascading the hill
Of reason into a reptilian dale:
**** by the dark Jidhadists' acts--
Souls demented beyond the pale.

From Iraq to Egypt--there, thanks
To Heaven for el-Sisi; from Syria
To Yemen to Somalia, and a place
Like the lands and shores of Nigeria,

Where Boko Haram breathes hell
In slaying and off skirting dames,
Destroying to the smirk of the devil--
Knowing terrorists are no Muslims.