raindrops dimple the pond
fishes near the surface snap at them
expecting red reward

those in the depths, bellies
barely above the silt, rest easy,
ignoring the folly above

when the heavens grow restless
and pound the pool with hail, the bottom
dwellers remain placid

unperturbed by the sky's fury
or the whipping tails of the once fanciful
who now descend to their depths

It has been almost
Two thousand
And five hundred years
Sine Plato’s cave
Spewed us out
Into an odyssey
Of light and
Philosophical
Humanity
Two and a half
Millennia
Spent clawing our way
Out of the dirt
Into this age
Of technological wonders
And now you
Want to blunder
Back in to
That cave that
Gave birth to
A new science
You want to
Take back
Evolution
And electricity
Medicines, and
Other utilities
Letting Freon
Burn a hole through
The atmosphere
That was protecting you
Letting old ideologies
Rebloom and consume
Taking the opposite
Of mushrooms
Twenty-five centuries
Till we succeed
In failing so completely
As you drag me
Back into
Plato’s cave

the sky dims dismal
over a washed-out landscape

harrowed, its holes fill furrows in the earth
and in the distance something cackles

a sound that splits the dawn
as the sun breaks over the horizon
its giant eye watchful but bleak.

a flamboyance of flamingoes and a ****** of crows
rise to the cries of battle on the moor
and nature's drums of war
beat a tattoo doomed
to eternally repeat.

and in the distance something crackles

the sun has turned to fire;
a spark
lies empty on the hollow ground
depleted of breath, it fades to ember
but then
but then

something startles it awake
the smallest of stirrings
for that is all it needs
and out of the crumbling darkness
the spark hurls itself
setting alight the expanse around it
and in the distance something burns.

It is 1:20 am
And I am at 7%
And I have only one bar of signal
And my screen tells me
"Reconnecting..."
                                
                              I'm 93% done with 'us;'
                              You have drained each per cent of my patience.
                              I'm getting mixed signals
                              From the language of your body,
                              And very few at that.
                              But I take a chance on us,
                              Another chance,
                              At this hour of lateness,
                              Maybe we can rebound and re-bond
                              And not just reminisce.
                              I reckon we could
                              Reconnect.

Nobody’s home
Your loud desperate knocks fall silent on empty hallways
Echoing off the closed up doors and windows
Nobody’s home
You try again
One knock, two knocks, three
Growing more desperate as you try to see if someone’s home
But everything falls silent
The echoes dyeing within seconds
No footsteps coming to greet you at the door
Nobody’s home
Your attempts fall flat as they reach the battered up hallway
But the sound doesn’t reach much further
The dog doesn’t bark
The cat doesn’t dare make a single step
Nobody’s home
Now the knocks become louder and louder
More desperate as you try to hear something more than unanswered echoes
Louder and louder
Drawing the snooping neighbours in
Peeping over their tall fences trying to see if you’ll be let in
Starting whispered discussions wondering why you are there
Are you there to collect money?
A cup of sugar or something more?
Their conversations staying quiet
Their ears stay open seeing if they can hear one more desperate knock
Money passed around the fences
Betting on what you came for
Coming to collect a long lost child?
Or just saying hello?
None of these neighbours will ever know
But their ears stay open
Their mouths begin to close as they hear one last desperate knock
A knock that yet again falls silent on empty hallways
Echoes bringing back the sounds of what was
And what will never be
A knock that brings back years of memories
You’ve heard this before
And yet here you are standing at her door waiting to hear it once more
One last knock for the crazy desperate man
Now he knows that nobody is home
There won’t be footsteps there to answer him
The dog won’t bark
The car won’t awake to see what’s happening
But he knocks again
Bringing back the wave of memories
Trying once more to smell the sweet smell of her
Cookies on a cold day
The smell of a sprinkler on full blast on the hot ones
The touch of her
Her face
Her face that not for one day has left his memory
Every day he remembers her
Remembering what once was
And what will never be
And he does that happily
For he knows now that his desperate knocks will only echo back silence
Bouncing on walls and doors that should be his
Polished door handles
Immaculate house
That fluffy dog to greet him when he comes home
The neighbours begin to leave
There’s nothing much more to see here
Something much more interesting must be happening on TV
Money is handed back and conversation falls quiet
Doors slamming, windows banging, kids shouting
Sounds that used to be so familiar are now distant memories
The man takes in one last breath
A soft knock
A quiet knock
So he can know that he did not leave without a fight
He turns and spins and decides to leave
Nobody’s home
That what he thought
Until he saw a car pull in
A car that just may let him in

In the darkness, extravaganza,
Flashing, blazing dramas,
Sky rockets and sparklers,
So spectacular,
Fireworks in my brain,
Illumination
Catherine wheels,
Is this for real?
The pyrotechnics,
Was it all a squib?
Crescendo
To diminuendo ....

I float down from clouds above
Another little death of love!

Shall I compare thee to a rusty basketball hoop?

I feel the same way when I touch you:

You’re familiar, constant, friendly, but apt to hurt me if I come too close.

Each time I cut my hand on you,

I’m asking everyone, Should I go to the ER?

Everyone is asking me:

Why don’t you get a new basketball hoop?

Jesus came wrapped in paper and coated in tape
Saw the sender and fell to my knees
Felt my body sink right through the earth
Felt time reverse

Was a child crying beneath the bridge
Watched his mother and father pulled to the sea
Stopped for a moment before pretending
I didn’t see a ******* thing

Should have opened my heart long ago
******* wasted on my own problems

I crawled through service
I collapsed at the grave

Can’t shake the sweat from my tips
Can’t wash the guilt from my sheets
What the hell happened to me?
What the hell happened?

Can I ascend a poem allegorical?
Are Tetley's teabags paradoxical?
A teabag is full of strength,
Teabag enters moisture at string's full length,
Radiating vigour and a pick-me-up,
While the tea drinker begins to sup,
There is the lonesome teabag,
Sodden, drained by old hag,
Limp and fatigued,
I ponder, intrigued,
Are teabags signs sent from above?
Are teabags truly true love?
Is this a poem allegorical?
Used teabags--quite paradoxical!!

He didn't meet many expectations
With the shell that he wore
Though the people gave nothing
They expected more

He'd stroll into town
With the clothes on his back
And the tools he would need
In an ancient, holey bag

He'd search out those
In need of repair
A leaky roof
Or a broken chair

This man seemed to know something
About every field
He'd smooth bumpy roads
Even doctored wounds 'til they healed

There was never a charge
For the service he rendered
One need only ask
And perhaps remember

If a stranger's in need
And passes your way
Just give him a hand
That's my pay

The more that he helped
The more tradesmen would fuss
This man's stealing the thunder
That belongs to us

So the tradesmen all gathered
And plotted and planned
The weapons they chose
Were not in their hands

They began to spread lies
This is our competitors' ruse
If he keeps freely working
Consider the business we'll lose

They convinced the masses
In spite of all he had done
This enemy among us
Is a dangerous one

So this strange humble servant
Who was mocked in the end
Had no one defend him
Not one single friend

If you'll lend me your ear
I'll return it with truth
The enemy among us
Is me and you