it is the way of things,

while there are birds.


while you read, you will

not understand  all words,

that is the way of things, soak

those stains in washings.


then look quietly, see a new.


cellular memory, let be, and learn,

that small birds fly up.

sbm.

Before air became gas
And water waste;
Before light became lasers
And fireworks cannons;
Before cars got wings
And trucks got tracks;
Before rafts were raiding ships
And we breathed underwater;
Before sticks were arrows and spears
And we exalted ourselves;
Before Empires rose and fell
And rose and fell,
A femur crushed Cro magnon's skull.
It's a marvel
How any of us
Are here
At all.

discordant qualities
- a layered beauty
worn casually

- a complicated
pretty lady -

i paint her black
lace *******
- i praise her
on her knees.

r ~ 10/24/14

Mother, I write this to you after the end of the war.
Japan surrendered and now I wear a cast.
The skies are still grey.
No bombs being dropped
The government has told us to wait
I think they might have forgotten that we fought.
Now I see silence at the ship's mast.
life has been going way too fast.
I have very little hearing left
But I still miss the times when you used to scream at me.
Sometimes,I gamble
and yes mother, I still mumble.
I often feel cheated
but in front of the strippers
I am defeated
I have been trying to heal my wounds
I hope I find real love soon
Mama, is this all too much to ask?
All I need is a little love
To forget my past.
I have fought on many fronts.
I have seen soil mixed with blood.
I have seen flowers wilt.
Seen myself hanging from a hinge.

I have aged
not gracefully
I think I have children
who think of me as futility.
I have made mistakes
and decisions in vain
got their fruit
been in pain

I need somebody to love
a place to call home.
In my soul, I have less life and more holes.
I want someone to be there when days are dreadful.
Someone who is internally beautiful.
I sound like just another lonely man
It's been hard writing this letter without slang.
Mama, is this all too much to ask?
All I want is a little love to forget my past.

Mother,  I am in my death bed
yes you read that right.
A nice nurse has been helping me write.
I ran away, Mama.
Yes I did.
Your darling son
who never flinched.
I tried to find an escape, Mama.
but failed
Went on a search for God and Allah
but lost myself half way.
They say I am too weak
Displaced bones
and days to live three.
No sign of hope.
My eyes are sensitive
the stars burn them
the sun turns them to ashes
Doctor says my eyeball has been flattened.

Mama? Are you still alive?
your son just came back from a fight.

softly. it moved.
seen from the corner
of an eye. crept
round the edge,
looking.

slid round the door
and out.

i feel it lives
in the shed.

sbm.

This is a happy poem,
About happy children,
And happy mothers,
Who dont get drunk.
And happy fathers,
Who dont leave home.
This is a happy poem,
About happy songs,
Which arent about heartbreaks.
And happy stories,
Which arent about death.
This is happy poem,
About happy headlines,
Which dont read '****'.
And happy people,
Who buried themselves,
Yesterday.

I once asked you
"How long will you love me?"
You answered "Forever and a day"
with your faded photograph smile, but

Only a few months later
we'd spend most our day
packing short-term memories
and ******* our goodbye

I guess you either needed a reminder
of why we lasted as long as we did, or
maybe you just wanted to feel my love
being emptied inside you, one last time

Either way,  you and I were never meant to last
we were a chance encounter, a flame
that quickly burned out  moments after you came, and I
watched the farewell dim your eyes

It's funny now, how forever
ended up being a Friday
at a crowded bus station

the asteroid came
unexpected unheralded unprophesied -
it didn't think, it didn't have theology

it put a hole through the earth
it implied: "I'm in a hurry;
not going anywhere in particular though
and all of you making all those plans
you got all those birthdays
and your Grand Days
and New Year's Eve  to celebrate -
you can go, you're just dust"
and it waved goodbye with its tails as it left
*"goodbye, spoilt brats -
you can go, you're each just dust"

When I think about it, it hurts, so I don't.