Hero....easily described
but, not so easily found
I've two that I remember
Now, both six feet in the ground

Not firemen, or athletes
Not policeman or my dad
But these two people are heroes
And that I met them makes me glad

Simon, strong as true forged steel
A kid with only one speed in his head
He was always pushing limits
And now poor Simon's dead

He was ten when I first met him
He was in a chair, but hey, big deal
Simon was a true survivor
He showed me just how I should feel

He showed me I was handicapped
He told me off when it was due
Until I treated him like other kids
He showed me stuff I never knew

He left us far too early
A little boy, not yet a man
but, Simon, you're my hero
You showed the reason for "I can"

The other one, I only knew
For a short time years ago
He was two when I first met him
With skin as white as fallen snow

We both shared a room together
He wouldn't live a long long life
He had luekemia and was dying
Too young to have this strife

He was always smiling broadly
As happy as someone could be
He didn't know that he was dying
He didn't know he'd not see three

But, his smile and his shining eyes
They showed me what it means
To live each day like it's your last
And to not make big, sad scenes

Both these special children
Left impressions on my heart
They are my special heroes
Who never got a chance to start

Here lies wealthy aunt Dot
Let us pray for her, people
Let us pray for Dorothy Keeper
For here comes the grim reaper.

They called her Marie-Antoinette
Breaking fast on cake and tea
While gorging whole on tamarinds
And tittering her high-squealed laughs.

She wore her sky-scraper heels
With such care, they'd always look new
With no scuff marks, but in the end,
She hurt her back and broke her ankle!

She lived in such a mansion
You'd need an elevator to get to ***
Her gardener had his own butler
While her dogs had weekly pedicures.

Yet when they found her, on her last
She was bedecked in every wealth imaginable
Burdened tables, with rarest delicacies
But not a crumb of mercy on her plate.

You see, the ones she thought valued her
Were simply riding high on tails
They were cloven deep through the ranks
While rank decay sat fat in every corner.

Always one to expect return
She did little to relieve that scorned idea
When nephews begged for bursaries
She'd shoo them gone; let pets sap cream.

Now, upon her mortal hour, her eyes did sink
So deep in sharp despair.
Her ragged breath her kin did hear
And mere perfunctory embrace she felt.

Her sickness begged a touch of care
A little sweetness, a glance of kindness
But pitied eyes swept aghast around
At the splendid array in her mausoleum.

Nephews now grown men stand and look
They shoo not the flies around her mouth
For minds locked ******* heartless past
Fail to discover any worthy pattern.

No one could give what she desired
So they turned all from patient, one by one
To their cosy, quiet homes
Save the little boy, silent by the door.

They knew not that their paltry lesson in humanity
Screamed for mercy; to alter, make good flow
The little boy turned, to change the tide
*** for tat pays not; we should all know that!

Peace and mercy, she but sought now
And in his utter silence, he gave her that
Her eyes pled such deep appeal
His heart bled at their steep reveal.

Most unfortunate turn of events unseen
When the boy now held beneath his eyes
Heavy, darkened rings of suffering
Intense subject of compassion.

Years later, no one would know that
Upon her deathbed, she bequeathed him silent gift:
That, until kin break spited cycle
He would bear the brunt forthwith.

And now, Aunt Dot has died
All return to home and hearth
Yet no redemption till the day is due
And the soul awaits .......ever patient.

Star Toucher, 22 February 2013

When the sun in the sky projects
Its fabulous beams of light
I am able to view Earth's beauty
Which is hidden from me at night

So I watch her each day in awe
Of the beauty which light reveals
And I dread the darkened hours
When the night my sweet image steals

But I have a plan stored in my mind
Of a way to make sure that I keep
Having access to images clear
Of my love even when she's asleep

I shall go to that wheel in the sky
And bring back its forceful light
I shall give to my love precious fire
And never again fear the night

Help me, Helios! Give me your source
to illuminate all with its glow
Help me! Get down to Earth with the spark
So the secrets of night I shall know

Here you are,  my love,  here is your fire
I will ask you to kindle its flame
I shall sit here and watch as you sleep
And the world will remember my name

But the gods are not happy at all
They come knocking as soon as they learn
That their celestial privilege is taken
To inferior beings unearned

They'll want their revenge for my crime
So they'll put me in chains on a rock
With an eagle forever to pick
At my liver each day at at always o'clock

An anarchist atom
Assaults the atmosphere
With anger and aerial arson
Bringing, begetting
Brutal and ****** battles
In my brain
Initiating chaos
With charges
Of chemicals.
A disection,  distortion
Diversion of dedication
And direction
Causing eruptions
Emissions
Of erratic, electric elements
Of ego.
Ferocious fires form
In filaments, firmaments
Feeding the fantastic
Forces
Which grow and gain
In greatness in gravity
Grave, gory, gorgeous
Gloom.
Henceforth hidden horrors
Harrowed in a hollow heart
Instantly interact with
Intimate ideas
Initiating irregular, irrational
Irreversible
Irrelevant
Intimacy
Jealousy
Jumbling of jinxes
And laws of the jungle
For kicks
Leading to lies
Leaving love for loneliness
Loss.
A massive moral meltdown
In my mind
Negating, neutralising
normality
Orchestrates an open
Onslaught of order
And ordinary
People's principles
To pursue passion
And perfection
In a poetic periphery
Quite queer to some
And quaint to those
Not acquainted with
Rushes of ramblings
Received and reciprocated
Or radical ridicule
Of rascals.
Synapses send,
Signal every sinew
Simulating similar signs
But transmitting treacherous
Tingles
Teasing,  trapping thoughts
In terror, temptations
To commit treason
Unforgivable,  unforgettable
Us
Vivid and vibrant
But also very
Woeful
Wishing we were wild
And willing to walk
Our wishes make wonderful
Wells of
Youth
And creative zest.

Cream puffs, cannoli’s and Saint Joseph’s pastries
I can’t decide which, cause they all look so tasty
Chocolate eclairs and Cheese Danish rings
These are a few of my favorite things

Creamy napoleons and crisp apple strudels
chocolate truffles, oh yes!, give me oodles!
Black and white cookies and chocolate ring dings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in the pastry shop stifle their laughter
they know that their cheesecake must be what I’m after
miniature pastries, boxed, ******* with string
These are a few of my favorite things

When my belt’s tight
When my pants split
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

4 o'clock, saturday
Dread and Panic are holding hands in my chest:
An extraordinary case of the mean reds
watching the gray
from my kitchen window

the cars parked over cement fields
precisely 300 vehicles when full
the boy sitting on a gray bench waiting
with his baseball, shh! His gray father is shouting
at his gray phone, his gray wife finally called that number.
all gray.

      the sky here is almost always sleeping
a blanket of melting nimbus
the gulls slide inoffensively over the roofs
our courtyard grass trembles for them

the wind falls out of the bay
wind, the world traveler without a suitcase
I imagine it kicking up dust in exotic fields
only the rocks are gray there,
gray because they deserve to be.

the whole scene is quite extraordinary
A Run Of Wild Horses! Gall-lop-ing
gliding offensively, red and white and gold
shining sweaty and flying!
can you imagine?

--it's starting to rain and the boy is still sitting,
he's so gray now I can hardly see him
the wind still spills in from the bay down the road
where I can see them running from my window-

Mains whipping like flags of furious change
Hooves beating down the cement footpaths
The streetlamps are crumpling into heaps of flowers
Tails raging back and forth, metronomous passion chords

Fast, rapid gaining (Lover's Heartbeat)
-the boy is yet unaware
legs of inspiration fast approaching
-the cars twist into red willows over golden hope fields
Shh! His father, master of gray has been sacked! Tr-am-pled!
Now his body of flowers lay in the street!

Arrest. They have arrested.

Standing tall and silent like Liberty
they take the boy upon their shoulders,
an acrobatic wonder
and continue slowly across the grass
-it still trembles for them
and take flight, to the next courtyard
and then the next.

I'll never forget the grayness of his eyes
as he disappeared over the trees
who were once chimneys,
his mouth was stuffed
full of flowers.

He didn’t know what time it was,
Except that it was early,
And he wouldn’t need to be up for hours.

So he turned his head toward the
Only window in the room,
Which was so white that it appeared
To be encasing ten feet of snow.
It was April, though,
He remembered through the neon glow,
And the room was 17 floors up.
The old hotel was silent,
Bathed in this new sunrise, so
Cold and refreshingly bright;
This new day- this white, ****** light.

And then there was the girl-
Sleeping beside him like a kitten
In a sea of pale linens and downs,
An arm over her forehead,
Like a dozing damsel in distress.
She’s fragile, he thought,
Fragile and rare as a glass unicorn,
The heart-wrenching, Tennessee Williams type-
No broken horn, but something
Indistinguishable setting her apart;
Like the pure sunlight, here lies
A beauty so blinding, yet hidden from plain sight.

He didn’t know what time it was,
Except that it was early,
And he wouldn’t need to be up for hours.
Her arm twitched.
The room was boomingly silent.
The infant light made a golden bar across the bed.
The air was crisp.
His breath was warm.
He felt chilled.
His skin felt raw.
His eyes felt raw.
His heart felt raw.
Her skin looked soft.
He wondered if her heart was soft.
He swallowed quietly.
He felt his head pound against the quiet.
Her arm twitched again.
A long-forgotten childhood scar shimmered,
And he decided that this particular mark
Is innocent, but…
He would move a mountain and
Protect her always; keep an eye on her,
In all her wild wonder,
Rather that give her another.

And then there’s the slight voice:
"Beautiful as if made of marble,
Untouchable as if made of glass,
If you’ve ever wondered how an angel sleeps,
Now you know at last."

And while he slipped back under the covers,
He slipped helplessly into a love from which he'd never quite recover.