“Do I sense
some resistance -
a sense of injustice?”
whispers Life
folding me cold
in her ample python-coil
and she sings me her song


“The flowers bloom
in the fields, sweet love
to be gathered for your bier
Time lingers in the wings
to pull you off stage
at the moment
opportune in its Clasped Book

The worms wait patient
if you choose a burial;
if cremation’s your choice
the fires wait in quiet potential
The musicians practise
to be employed
by the survivors
to deliver you a dirge

And so my sweet love -
Live well
Night night, sleep tight,
don’t let the bedbugs bite"

I saw there, in a darkened room, in a corner
something...
curious, I venture closer
not sure yet what I see but it echoes of pain
many stories were hiding in the dark
and to me they were whispering
asking if I would but listen a while
it is frightening in here I know, said the voice
but the absence of light can be your friend
when in darkness you cannot see me
for I have been here so long I am but a hideous shadow
yet do not be afraid, just listen
I listened for so long
days on end I sat in the black gaining wisdom
when the final tale was told I pondered in silence for some time
finally I stood, bent down and picked up the piece of me
and took us out into the sunlight

the sea comfortable in its trespass
swallows the rocky cliffs
then the white sand beaches
then the bicycles lounging in the yard
then the high-rise apartments
the sea comfortable in its trespass
takes no notice of costal child
with kite in hand squinting for
opposite shore in wonder
am I the last kid with a kite left?

How could I be cold when
I'm on fire with passion
It burns through life to char
What doesn't belong.
Turns it to ash so it will
blow away in the wind-
Leaving in the absences
space to flourish for
Everything that's right.
Vibrant with new life
What's left to grow,
Determined to let the
Best in me represent
The rest of me.

Oh wily
and would a stab to ****** be a lie
and no fool
wicked, twisted in deceit
a weak little lamb to defile
nay, would not a lamb know folly
after years of observation
no fool I say
when tears fall down like rain
knowing the truth
not an object
not anymore
never again
to give light to treachery
and the raindrops still fall
knowing what is needed
is so far away
when wily coyote attempts to play on trickery
but no fool, no fool

A paradox in itself
But then I saw her there across
the room
through flocks and flocks of 'beautiful'
silly seagulls --
              frivolously flocking,
                                            pecking at
the shiniest trash that flutters by
Only to swallow
pass
flock, peck again
-----------------------------------------------------------­---
She intrigued my mind
   through
the eye I saw her beak was flat                                y
no craning,
                  crooning neck                                   l
                                           and could not f
for she had no wings
... maybe we do not care to fly!
------------------------------------------------------------­--
Like the Red Sea
She-Moses split through the flock
to me,
beakless
surrounded by chronically cocking faces
all but one,
                                                            ­          all alone
She had been                                                     too
-------------------------------------------------------------­
Now next to me
                                                              ­                                        No wandering eye could care
in soundless conversation
proclaimed we
                       are together
as one we surely gleamed as gold
too bright for gulls to see
              ...Mastur-consolation?
------------------------­-------------------------------------
And so it's true
we were                   alone
                               together
perfect paradoxical bliss