He that will the world
remould
should first himself recast.

Out the cot
man goes
to return
to the coffin.

Little dull birdies  .  .  .
Love own songs by mirror pond,
  .  .  .  Graceful swan sails by.


Hello Poetry  .  .  .
Dawn lords with simple vainness,
Watch her crown herself.


Hello Poetry  .  .  .
Day sullies night, bright vanity
  .  .  .  Dawn is a poser.


Hello poetry  .  .  .
Even vain rube's bio drains,
Spews self promotion.


Here is Pantheon  .  .  .
Dabblers, self aggrandizers,
  .  .  .  What a hollow hall.

Un-veiled Narcissist

                      O
         THE             POET
   WHO                      TALKS
    AD                            INFI-
Nitum                             About
  Ones                            Self,
     What                      Low    
          # is                  S/he
                        ?

Peacocks on HP  .  .  .
Are not birds, yet dinosaurs,
Wingless beneath earth.

Whole world rejoices  .  .  .
Loam and leaf dancing today,
  .  .  .  Happy Mother's Day!

Wild flower fields—
Only smoulder while she flames,
Her yellow sun dress.

After our row  .  .  .
In the still night clouds bursting,
  .  .  .  Rain spoke for us both.

just today

      don't believe me
  
dare to doubt me
        
     ask for evidence

 for still there's only guilt

    in pleading

        "Innocent"
          

...
           I long to be
                 seen through
                                               ...

When you touch,
It is withholding.
When you moan,
It is suffering.
When you smile,
It is mercy.
When you laugh,
I am placated.
When you swoon,
I am not there.
When you vibrate,
I only witness.
When you taste,
I only imagine.
When you love,
I am unknown.

Love has killed
m'heart,
which should have made
it
live.