Rachel’s hair, black as ink,
splatters my blank skin.
It’s a rewrite for bad readers,
a stroll for quick-to screamers,
a phone call at 3 a.m., and
a sickening high that just won’t end.


Rachel’s teeth, sharp/jagged like littered glass shards,
dig into my aged, faintly seasoned flesh.
It’s a feast for lazy vultures,
an eyesore for devout heathens,
a dusty revolver on a Sunday, and
a lone drunk at a flybuzz wedding.

Rachel’s soul, battering ram/sputtering mad,
dilutes toxic mine, leaves only the rind.
It’s a constant reminder for dangerous nostalgia,
a blanket smoldering in fire within winter-without-end,
a handshake and a heart attack for closest kin,
an elevation, a joyous atomic cloud, and
a sky crying elative confetti tears of future me.

When draped in cloths of purple and the finest crimson,
Gallivanting through the summered forest,
All covered in flower and magic and light.

When heavy in the swoon of a summer afternoon,
Or bathing in the lukewarm embrace of our troubles,
Wallowing away the days
And counting down to the ones when we never have to think.

Or if by chance on the silvery moon,
When gilded with fantasy, and sitting on a happy cloud,
Overlooking our town and falling over from laughter,
For we can finally see how small we are.

It's when we find the golden afternoon,
That special time when birds never die and fairies fly,
That we will truly be content with the way of the hour glass,
And only then can we replace the changeling
With the actual thing,
No longer lost in the green and the mess,
Standing tall in the eaves,

When on our golden afternoon,
We shall be forever friends.

You sneered at me because you thought I'd lied
and stared at me through drunken eyes of pain,
then waved me off as I tried to explain.
You turned away, just shook your head and sighed,
still unconvinced that I had not a clue
where she had gone since I had left her here.
You drove away, your taillights disappeared
into the driving snow, the wind that blew.
The same snow broke your fall as you collapsed,
but couldn't keep your temple from the bruise
that showed up three days later as you lay
in state but not in peace. I think I snapped;
I spoke to you, 'twas Dylan's words I used:
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears I pray.

You have subconsciously immortalized yourself
On the ceiling of my room.
I didn’t know you, then.
We were just learning to hold hands and
Walk to the same rhythm and you didn’t know
How much my heart yearned for you.
You didn’t know that, then.
You bought me glow-in-the-dark stars
And we rushed home to stand precariously on the bed
Just for the sake of Orion’s Belt.
We turned out the lights and I showered you,
Sprinkling the tiny illuminations all over your soul.
We stargazed and cuddled close until our eyes
Started to gently close
And under the warmth of what must have been a thousand
Beams of light
I believe we began

A glimpse- and rushing
Your fingers rough
But warm as they find the skin  
beneath my hair-
grasp the back of my neck and
we’re embracing through heavy coats:
a sturdy crush to reach our organs,
placate the crave for your trace.

It’s always elation, first.
A squealing burst I stifle-
My brain is jelly in the station.
It’s a stinging cold but I won’t wear gloves
as we walk home and
our united skin blends as our fingertips
grow numb.

I’ll say, “I’ve missed you”
and mean more- only because the words are missing
and it’s easier – less syllables
to say than to explain
how you’re the colour to my scenery;
and without you, my kaleidoscope gives
only grey triangles.

I now present to you the talk of the town Mr Page
He looks are deceptive; please don't be fooled by his age
He lives alone in a house near to his office in front of a park
He has far too many enemies for he is a loan shark

Before I tell you more let me put a disclaimer
Now days anyone can sue you, even a lamer
So if there is any resemblance with anyone dead or alive
It’s a mere coincidence, have checked all archive

Mr Page as you read this, is now in a court
Facing a trial bravely and holding on to his fort
Lawyer asked him if he would promise not to lie
Mr Page told, truth it shall be, till he would die

Not only was he a loan shark whose guts every one hated
He spoke in rhymes, even when he debated
All he did was to threaten people all the time
He made them sound ridiculous adding punches and rhymes

When the lawyer asked, 'Mr Page can you show us how you rhyme.'
He replied, ' No sir this is neither the place nor the time.'
'Besides I am not carrying any dictionary or copy of rhyme zone'
'Watch what you say Mr Page' said the lawyer, 'I don’t like your tone'.

'Order order', said the judge, 'I don’t want any rhyming in my court.'
'I can see my lawyers have started rhyming too', he added with a snort
'Do you see Mr page what a bad precedence you have set'?
'Why my lord how could I corrupt the court, ' said Mr Page, ' we have just met'

'There you go, rhyming again even when I told not to'
'Sir why are you so against rhyming I have absolutely no clue'
'Mr Page, please stop.'
'Sorry sir I will try to drop.'
'Mr Page I warn you.'
'I am trying, I am trying, and it’s hard! Phew'
'A phew! Did you have to add that'?
'Sir please, it’s all part of a chat'
'Mr Page you are not helping'
'Please my lord, stop yelping'
'What! How dare you! Handcuff him and put him in jail,
No books, No net, No friends and No bail.'

So you see this how Mr Page landed up in prison
And for what, rhyming, which was certainly no treason
Funny laws, funny punishments, this certainly was a funny case
But the people were happy as long as they didn’t see Mr Page's face.

Deep and resonant crying
Calling out forlornly
into unfamiliar
ocean depths.

The eerie echo of my voice
sounding through the sea.

Seeking solace in the familiar
But naught familiar here.

Lost at Sea.

Strange waterscapes passing by
my massive form.

Gliding easily, powerfully through
unrecognizable ocean currents.

Calling, calling, calling.

Searching Endlessly.

Rising to breathe from Earth's sweet air.
To take in the brief moment of transition
from water to air and back.

Rolling over the surface,
my tail a flag of despair,
my dive into deep crevasse,
Desperate.  Lost.  Alone.

Searching, searching for my home.

So, let's see, cheeriness personified.
****** if I can think of anything depressing.
Again and again, my mind goes on ever and ever,
In search of that infernal lightening rod
To which the dark and dreary are attracted.
And yet, butterflies and billowing clouds,
erupt magnificently in full bloom.
Hiding in the nooks of my cranium
fluffy bunnies and poofy flowers.
Anything really to while away the hours.
And so I write about grand battles,
frogs on crack, and ladies in your lap.
Seems this perky cheeriness is infectious....

A wink and a nod to my friend Frank. ;)

we outlive our animals
most of the time
our friend
our family member
11 years last week
can't rise on her own
today lies quietly
in the back yard
watching
for squirrels
chasing them
in her imagination
as she would
when younger and able
not many days left now
while we with the intelligence
and experience
undecided
to keep her
just one more day
or let her go now
Sam, we will miss you