A grotesquerie of time
Sculpted faces
Litter the landscape.

Classical columns stand
Jagged and broken or lie
Forlorn.

A soft oriental anxiety
Hangs in clouds over yhe scene,

And all the waves of
History fall.

The shift proceeds-
A drunken monk
Misdeliberates his
Kung Fu.

All is change
All balance is wobble-
The sun sets-uncaring

Poems to kiss you to
Sing a song
Hums and Dance
are all in vibe.

In shadows deep where moonlight wanes,
Where whispers dance in eerie strains,
There prowls a creature of the night,
With eyes aglow, a chilling sight.

Amongst the hibiscus, crimson blooms,
Their petals soaked in midnight gloom,
A vampire lurks, his thirst unbound,
In silence, stalking without a sound.

He yearns for blood, a crimson stream,
A haunting echo, a silent scream,
And in the garden, where hibiscus weep,
His hunger stirs from slumber's keep.

Yet amidst the darkness, a delicate grace,
The hibiscus blooms, a fragile embrace,
Their beauty rivals the moon's soft glow,
A stark contrast to the vampire's woe.

For in their petals, life's essence lies,
A crimson hue beneath starlit skies,
But to the vampire, they hold no cure,
Just reminders of what he must endure.

So in the night, where shadows creep,
The vampire hunts, his hunger deep,
And though the hibiscus may wilt and fade,
Their beauty lingers in the darkness, unswayed.

© fey (24/04/24)

I suppose I'll be in a Nursing Home one day
  drooling all over myself
And still plotting revenge on this world for
  having wronged me so,
Or maybe I might just be dozing, probably
  having another nightmare
I might find myself on a train somewhere and the conductor he suddenly
  announces
"Next stop Dementia City
After that it's Alzheimersville"
I'll awake with a start
And then...then I'll see her... this beautiful
  vision just walking in
Elderly like myself but still so ladylike
Still so lithe and graceful
I'll tell my Nurse to quickly get my false teeth
And my good wig
And my walking frame
And to give me a couple of those heart tablets
I'd think to myself "I knew she'd come... one
  day"
It'd be one last chance for Love... one last dash for Love.

So moving slowly but determinedly across
  the floor toward her
I'd probably get a pain midway
And then keel over
She'd not see me, she'd have her back turned
  to me
The Nurses they'd be showing her to her
  room
She'd be walking away
I'd try to call out but the words they'd get all
  garbled and stuck in my throat
I'd try to reach out to her... reach out like
  she's some mirage in the desert
My last gasp... my last gasp for Love
But...too late...
Too late, the Hero.

In the reflection
of your eyes
there's the yellow glow of warmth turning
forever blue

The offering of a hand full of goodbyes
slips off my fingertips
crystallized ìn sunshine
tears and whys

Fear ***** at
my spine, like
a leech,
slimy and black.

The crowds
laugh and imitate
each other.
No creativity,
only brutality.
Little lemmings.
They get raises and
promotions,
accolades in bunches.

Killers of the
dodo and the redwood.

They smile over
tea and the
bones of dead men.

Perfect in
their machine like
minds; immune to death,
like the quest for power.

When the talking stops
When the words do nothing
Just put them on the back burner
Be there when called upon
For the time being, let them deal
Let their Drama Go

C@rainbowchaser2024

how you love
the field and the buttercup flowers.

the meadow
and the chase
where love becomes fire.

and it is love

that has brought us here.

a heartache for you, dear doe.

a heartache for me, too.

are you bleeding your heart out
not to be with him
as i am not to be with her?

a prayer.

let the ghosts of heartache
rise in the mists of dawn.

let our heartstrings
stop beating to the same
sorrowful song.

doe in the first light of dawn.

Run to him!