Nimble foe you've taken plenty o' life,
Condemned spirits of right to disdainful strife,
And illness of absence at that of departed,
Wrongfully beseeched at what you'd started.
And here with these twigs, I abolish at once,
Unable to return to these lands for months,
And shall we meet again at the glimpse of eye,
Let it be known that thou be sentenced to die -
Employed upon you ever so swiftly,
And might you remember such last moments stiffly.

Here I warn you once, no more,
And command you away from this land you'd tore,
For your existence has given thee such shame,
It is all but you, you are to blame,
And for once might you realize in agony, in fame,
Your callous actions have set surefire to name,
Alas, may you conclude tis' not a game,
As you walk among a blaze, for you are the flame -
At once, which all, seize to burn out,
Shan't you menace and retort with incentive to spout,
Rejection, forevermore, your friendly bloom,
Yet now even disgust stay wretched in Moon;
So that one day might you seek to learn,
That dissenters hereby are condemned to burn.

Some nights
the Moon is ivory
and the sky ebony
like Liberace's
white piano
and some nights
it's blue
as my worn out
work shirt
the sky black
as dirt
I've dug from
the Earth
or maybe
an empty plate
howled at
by a hungry dog
a woman
in a yellow dress
she lifts
wading in the sea
an empty ship
sailing west
its cargo of diamonds
having scattered
far in the wind
but some night soon
it'll be the nightlight
on the wall
across the room
from my dark
shaded window.

Vouchsafest Thou?

Do you enjoy the word "vouchsafe" as much
As I?  It isn't as musical as the phrase
"Thence forward," or “joylich,” “leman,” and such
Or "confusticate," - who says that these days?

“Wherefore,” “abroche,” let us now celebrate
“Antic” English words: “aforetime,” “perforce”
“Slowcoach,” “freshet”, “befall” - at this late date?
And dear “daffadowndilley” (but of course!)

“Declaim,” “forsooth,” “marchwarden,” and “descry,”
And let us not forget the sweet “day’s-eye!”

Saint Mary Magdalene’s Recycled Mobile ‘Phone

Her ‘phone was passed on to a parish priest
But they forgot to change the numbers and so
Her client-base kept telephoning him
At night, when the moon and the johns were full

“Confessions on Friday evening at seven”
Didn’t ring-a-ding anyone’s ding-ding
Maybe the lonely men in lonely rooms
Remembered then what their dear mamas said

And maybe they didn’t – life falls apart
Both in the street and at the Airport Inn

People may think
People may stare
I shrug them off
I do not care

Let them think what they want
Let them believe what they will
My mind is made up
My heart is still

I know where we stand
I know what we are
They may assume things
They may look from afar

Come ask me in person
Come ask for what’s true
Don’t be scared I don’t bite
Don’t debate what you "knew”

He would tell you the truth
He would answer the same
Go ask him next
Go ask for his claim

We are on the same page
We both know how we feel
At least I think we do
At least that’s how I deal

Dear anyone who hears from
parents, peers, family, friends,
"you really should go to bed earlier."
i say ***** it.
for they are the day-people
but we here
we are the night-people.
and we are flourishing
while everyone else is sound asleep
we are creating
while everyone else is simply dreaming
we are living our lives
while everyone else is tucked safe in bed.
here's to the night-people who must band together,
for while the day-people may never understand,
we know
the beauty
of the night.