SNOW FALLS

She wakes to a morning
with no reason for living

cries in the mirror
to be forgiven.

Puts on her make-up
takes off her clothes

sits there & bleeds
until she can’t feel

the blood in her veins
...runs cold.

The razorblade
bleeds...bleeds.

The cat cries
to be fed.

The batteries in her Walkman
go dead.

The Rachmaninov stops.

A letter she will never read
drops on the Welcome mat.

A mobile rings & rings &...stops.

A member of a minor political party
looking for her vote

rings the doorbell twice
slips on the ice    &   ruins his coat.

Curses.

A man laughs at another man’s joke.
It’s a big laugh...he’s a big bloke.

Laughter invades the square.

There’s a chill in the air.

A friend calls for her
(to go on a blind date)  

...she doesn’t hear.

Snow...
...snow...
...snow falls.

INVISIBLE BLUE PLAQUES

Someone or other
lived & died here.

Some other someone
wrote their most

famous work
there.

Every so often
a blue plaque informs us

as we journey
through town

(rain falling down)    

of Blah Blah
who blah’d & blah’d here

or was
blah’d there

... who cares?

In my mind
I ***** invisible
blue plaques

to commemorate
us.

Here: we kissed
(did we not?)    
...a mere minute ago.

Here: we turned
& laughed

on the corner of this everyday
road.

Here: we laughed
& hugged

on a pedestrian crossing

(a pedestrian
crossing)    

whistling at our
ardour

a taxi honking
at our armour.

All over London
our invisible
blue plaques

commemorate
us

&
that

we once
passed this way

so deeply
in love.

this, and that,

what good and fine as can be,
may be limited by, in fact,
one bit of both of us acting

as reader one and writer one
assigned to frame a mindform

an aspirant's aim, a mortal hero,
no superior anything, Joe Blow,

Johnny Come Lately, and
Johnny Lunch Pail, and Big Bad John

as a mind user holds self evident
what another holds sacred and undeniable

peace has a rule, least said, soonest mended.

Suffer it to be so, now
fully fected per form re co known,
true rest, debt free, fret free, ready
recognize trust as post warring, after
war reasoning retired, generally,
in peace

knowing using time we share,
my side of the situation produces
peace past understanding we live as part

of something we are reactions to as parts
required to inspire our realization as a whole.

From our marveling minds, we may so wonder
as mankind ever has minds we may open wider
while we are resting, re estimating worths costs

what's it cost to think in English a Hebrew word
a foreign idea, to think in miyn kind classified we

not me, nor you, we ag re spond aghast, what if

this is finished but
for our final faith's polishing touch. A reader.

My dare to say, the way I lived, worked.
My bet if time were today, what I live in;
then we live in it together, rationally balanced

at this previously unthinkable point. Ready

to experience thought slowed to ink speed…

elipses signify, thought pauses to think, read
right to left or up and down or left to right,

front to front, face to face, mirroring mind,
relearn from famous heros, mirroring kind-ness

like me beings shown our premyelinated brain rind,
bring me guile, show me some unprejudged idle word

logical extender of thought you heard said, hermit

hero's… the hidden practically only quiet certainty,

Cartesian or Pascalian, pre trib rapture revelation,
addendum on the end of the narrative, eh,

curses, foiled again… Mighty Mouse, ah,
shoot gee ****, kids

you better eat your Wheaties, be like Bruce,

tangled in a time of thinkable self will power,
dedicated to a timeless sufferage practice
to perfect a performance costing more,

than any other person ever paid, right
at one single point piercing everything

perfectly.
Storywise. Told and retold, to you, your story,

who are you but my audience, or our audience,
as we think during instances of mistaken belief.

The function of the mind, in a verb, by leaving
today the same everywhere right now, belief

can release potential peace, right when lief
as well think of green green moss after rain,

if there be any good, think on that.
Prepose your mind's eye on that goodness,

noticed, mosses and lichens shout bright
reflecting back through our whole being
beauty at the sight, at the action seeing

as today,
where I am, on purpose,
proposing one pastence,
everything everywhere all at once,
now, then

thinkable, in a crazy unsortable
fluid in a bubble, bubble in a foam,

message sent, Peace on Earth.

these people

I can’t see them anymore
I don’t want to see them anymore
I have no desire to see them anymore

I never think about
phoning them or
messaging them or
stopping by to say “hi.”

I don’t care about
what’s happening
in their lives or
who they’re dating
or what memories
we had together

yet they insist, they demand
that I visit them
that I sit down with them
that I talk about nothing important
with them

and I can’t say no

because I know how it feels:

during those times,
when I was down and out
and needed someone
to turn to, to talk to
but there was no one around
I felt the terror & the darkness
constricting my cold and lonely heart
as all the vitality and connection was draining
from my ventricles of ire
like blood from a stone

and so much of that
over a lengthy period of time
has made me a lot stronger,
more independent from people
and maybe even borderline aloof
from all human interaction

I no longer need them
I no longer want them around

but I can’t let anyone
feel that same way
that I felt

so long ago.

pitiful.

I watch her apply creams and lotions to her face through the steamed glass of the shower door before lathering, rinsing off and stepping out.

she greets me at the bathmat with a towel,
then towels me off and flashes me the most
beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I smile back,
feeling more understood and less misconstrued as she pats and wipes the beads of water away.

it’s moments like these that can make a man
crumble into submission, capturing the quick
glimpses of the joy and the gentle peace from
another beautiful soul when there’s so much
terror, fame & corruption reigning down in
this misbegotten world.

we stand there facing one another

we don’t have to be anybody
we don’t have to be anyplace
we don’t have to worry about anything
we can just simply enjoy each other’s company

looking deep into the eyes
she caresses my beard
she understands me
she takes care of me

& it’s nice to be taken of
especially after a lifetime
of taking care of yourself

I stand there feeling the good times pass
as she dries my ***** with this
lucratively warm towel.

it’s sad to say
that nowadays
a smile
is more often
used
to hide depression
rather than
express
happiness.

I’ve only ever seen two outcomes
in terms of meeting people:
you’re either betrayed
or forgotten about.

and sometimes I’d rather take
the malicious stabbing of bad faith
over the slow waltz with the long knife.


that’s all.

the leafless tree branches.
clouds drift in the pale sky
and the deer leave footprints
in the snow

and all flowers fade,
so, throw the dead flowers
across my grave

and with time
winter's wounds will heal
so spring can follow
when the river sheds its skin of ice
and the deer footprints turn to mud

and the earth forgets the cold.
sunlight kisses, the flowers sigh,
tulips bruised red,
for-get-me nots whisper,
daffodils linger.

the sunrise whispers anew
and trembling in sunlight
the green leaves wave

as the wind dances with newborn flowers
that for tell of the Grace.

O, my wild garden.

big rat, bigger cat
who eats
who runs

who makes the rules

big rat, bigger cat.

the rat has sharp teeth,
sits on a throne of broken bones,
stares through eyes of shattered glass,
no future
no past.

who s first,
who s last,

the rat's heart
loosely wrapped
barbed wire

who s first
who s fast

big rat, bigger cat

but King Rat has dreams,
wants a kingdom

an alley chat

the cat asks, meow?

snakes in the garden of eden?
wolves in suits?
crows on the telephone wire?

every throne
every king
a reckoning

alley chat, alley cat,
the cat gives, a wink.

deep and wide,
the cat smiles the gate,

"trust me."

Some poems seem to write
themselves;
I just move the pen.
Others are like lumps
of clay;
they refuse to be molded;
they need moisture and time.
This one is like
a robin that just learned
to use its wings.
It heads west, on a
gentle breeze, into
a tangerine sky.