Dew gravitates from the wild blue yonder
To kiss her lover, grass—but when sun’s rays
Come, dew indignantly to skies doth soar,
But to her lover doth return always.
And the waves madly rush in ecstasy
To their lover, shores—but when gravity
Calls, waves indignantly ebb to the sea,
But dost return in perpetuity—
Then, a soul of mine so entwined with thine,
To wing to rose veiled banks of paradise;
But along the way thine decamped from mine,
On yonder beyond where the sun doth rise.

"But, if sea waves and dew of skies above
To their lovers return, why not thee, love?"


©**Kikodinho Edward Alexandros. Jumeirah, Dubai. 03rd.09.2017

Where the Earth has etched out the Avon gorge,
I stand and look, from the edge of the downs,
see from the pale blues, where sky and land merge,
to a valley of green and ochre browns.
Under the midday sun, in silent awe,
I stand and look into the glowing distance.
Light dances, like I've never seen before,
the landscape shimmering with brilliance.
It humbles me, how I have happened upon
this panoramic and sublime expanse,
how it will stay with me, once I have gone,
how what I will remember is the dance.
Then I realise, the world, it sings a song.
That all I want to do, is sing along.

An unpredictable man has hardware
Flouting its strong resolve for us to see
A missile projecting with awful scare
The world pleads his insane obsession's flee
Diplomacy's will urges a quelling
Our quaking planet seems truly unsafe
Danger's loud note he's lately spelling
We're hearing the meaning of rasping chafe
Containing his ambitions no easy task
A deaf ear chosen by commo warhead
Why is the question we must now ask
The provocation feels like a dire dread
International sanctions ***** him down
May they limit the threat's barbed crown

I reckon I'll keep my golden fiddle,
How blind are you not to know this is love?
A star so confusing than a riddle,
That draws men in thoughts vast as skies above;
Yet softly comes as waters of a brook,
To confine one in a deep sea of thoughts,
Like a lone shepherd doth search a stray crook.
Though like a scudding cloud you'll think of naught,
For if she'd be a gem, she's but a pearl,
Thrice more precious than gold is to a dwarf;
Yet if a flower seldom doth unfurl,
Despite for her sake, poetry, men ****.

**Ye men so blind to unfurl my riddle,
"Love was the key to my golden fiddle."

Sauntering by the edge of a calm sea,
I thus squinted through the mirror of time,
And there, I beheld memories of us,
Ebbing like a wave to a distant clime;
Wistfully I saw our golden moments,
Ineffable moments we once relished,
Away vanishing by ragging torrents,
Yonder sea where they'll never be reached;
But, betwixt my despair I beheld clear
Shadows of my heart despite cold as frost,
In a jiffy erupted with sheer pleasure
On sojourning to our sweet golden past;

Truly true love dawns once in a life time,
And in a lover's heart ever doth chime.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
7th June 2017

please excuse the gross lingo in this write
but using it will add some genuine bite
last night Jack's freezer called on our town
leaving a big frost blanket well behind
its chilliness stayed fixed to my rind
the temperature was minus of degrees
there came a feeling cold in toes and knees
everything most certainly zeroed down
holy crap them winter ides aren't too good
they shivered through my old frames wood
three more months of a bitter frigid brace
summer's warmth has departed these parts
which means I'll be up for Jacko's white starts
climes such as his are so hard to face

a woman's work is ever ongoing
she cooks, washes and does all hubby's mowing
the list of her daily duties quite long
she's never free from these demanding tasks
her days are as full as the fullest flasks
at no time is the housewife taking spells
every minute rings in requesting bells
few assist they're off singing an easy song
whereas the underpaid maid grinds tough stone
her hands worn down to barest possible bone
women carry tons of bricks a real heavy freight
not for one second will they idle or laze
they're running around in the busiest haze
by week's end they do feel a loading's weight

These bars on the window, they keep me in
Though they are not quite what you would expect
They're not strong or thick, but flimsy and thin.
Instead of iron, they're made of plastic

Although they do stop me physically
It is not in the conventional sense
Of "lock her up and throw away the key"
More like the subtle warning of a fence

They shun the thing that is fueling my fire
Leaving me in darkness, too familiar
The heaviness keeps at bay my desire
To leap into unknown, the barely blur

They trap me not like the bird in a cage
Rather, they stifle, like the soul in rage