Three meager blackberries
not quite formed,
plucked too soon from the vine.

Like us,
you were not quite ripe.

But your sister is with us now.

Trying to prove yourself
to someone that doesn't
deserve you is a lose-lose.

They will never notice
and you're giving pieces
of yourself to someone
who only loves their
reflection.

No one sees the real thing.
Demons dance for her and sing.
Ashes of flesh coat her skin.
Bones of darkness lie within.
The game she plays, a trick of mind.
The beauty she is will make you blind.
Once you allow this temptress near.
Your heart will be only that of fear.
Her lust to **** is all she seeks.
Her words will end you as she speaks.

do you see them there?
heads bowed
heavy with a past
they cannot stomach
do you seem them there?
an aura of gray seems to follow them,
and people step away when they pass
frightened perhaps,
that the misfortune of the less fortunate
will cling to their
expensive coats
and warm mittens
do you see them there?
they do not sing the anthem
or pledge their allegiance
they have no love
for a country that does not love them
they will not lose what is left of their dignity
attempting to run after
a world that has left them in the dust
they are the essence of dust
unclean specks
unimportant to the
                                     big
the
                                     loud
the ones who run the show
they are far from running the show
do you see them there?
breaths catching in the cold air
an unadulterated bitter anger
at those above them
for placing themselves above them
do you see them there?
because sometimes they get
     l
         o
              s
                   t

Good fortunes arrive
as misfortune subsides
Or is it a mistake
I still haven't decided
even unto this day

I hesitate and reflect
on all that is happening
To think it all through
then quickly to act
post-haste
There to avoid
that fatal mistake

Time was when
with a burst and a flash
I then attained my goals
but lost my love
and my good life

Yet still I must
and yes I will
complete the course
set out for myself

To succeed and prosper
within the domain
of goodness
Remaining there
within goodness
sustained.


-R.

(10.24.17)
-LA

Either you end up
In my poems
Of heartbreaks,
Sadness and misfortune
Or you end up beside me
Filling the gaps between
My fingers.

I was the last served from the dish of good luck
Where I sat at the table of life
The man before scraped the residual muck
From the plate with the edge of his knife

But the last shall be first, and so I was served
The primary course of mishap
I could not comprehend how I had deserved
Such a rich and luxurious scrap

How can one poor person consume such a feast
Of mischance as allotted to me
Others would sink in despair, at least
To see fate their forsworn enemy

To Selene:
Rare a night, her gentle grace is not seen;
Live long torches, shamed, by her beauty’s gleam!
The Queen of night, my heart, she reigns supreme.
Floating high in deep, black lakes of my dreams,
Softly she gazes down past thick and thin;
Distant is her love as we skin to skin;
Fooled, my fervent stretch is never within,
Her affection for me, I’ll never win.
My heart, her misfortune can only reap
This last choice—wound us both more than my weep!
For her sympathy, my eternal sleep!
Now like me, may her woe forever keep.
By day miss her and dream of her by noon
Forever, rest in heart, my dear honey, moon