In the cusp of closing night, I look into your weary eyes;
once outshining city lights. I see no way to realize
the healing of this blight - I venture to make a phoenix cry.
Remedy of such mythos might, might just prove unjust lies.
Chance restoring your ere vacant sight - fighting soul’s primal guide.
As any chance to restore my bride, binds our fractured lives.

...No words to describe affliction already decided.

The Phoenix rose into the sky
And blazed so bright
The sun turned its eye.
The moon spun in delight
For finally the sun knew the taste of the night.

In fiery fury did that Phoenix fly free.
The taste of heaven its to sample,
The winds calling it to be.
Its joy was ample,
Its song beautiful in flight.

He flew unto the mountains
To taste the morning dew.
Sparkling lights from his plumage in fountains,
Little flames that rose and flew.
And everything was right.

Its indomitable spirit brought joy to the land,
Yet sorrow to the more covetous soul
That couldn't have him on hand,
And death if they could not capture their goal.
The Phoenix learned to fight.

So he faced their persecution and contumely,
Their arrows like a storm,
Their drive all consuming,
Their hate the norm,
And their numbers like a blight.

Their attacks wounded and even brought him to the ground.
But in a fiery blaze he always rose,
Reborn and not a scar to found,
Returning to the wind's currents and flows,
Outshining the daylight.

In icy lands one day he soared
When a songless tune tookwing.
He searched, adventured, the winds they roared
As he sought the owner of this tune to sing;
No one lay in sight.

The winds buffeted
And the Phoenix tossed and tumbled.
Tailspinning as the winds parleyed,
Into a valley he stumbled,
His landing narrow and tight.

In this valley lay the quarry at hand:
An ice elemental of purest blue.
She swayed and she danced and sang across the land,
Her laugh like windchimes and her voice true.
So the Phoenix let his voice alight.

The delighted elemental joined along
And they played and frolicked in joy,
Friendship made in song.
The Phoenix flighty and the elemental coy,
Raging flame temperedby cold's fierce bite.

They journeyed and traveled in wonder.
Where one dare not the other paved the way
Their compliment tore previous limits asunder
And made wonderfull each new day.
Their bond a happy fright.

But nothing lasts forever,
And shadows dwell wherever
The light shines free.
Thus came the darkness inevitably.
It stole the elemental away
Bringing an end to their play.

Then, did the Phoenix know sorrow;
Bitter, painful, dimming the light of tomorrow.
Then, did the Phoenix know anger,
With wrathful thought to linger.
And with determination did the Phoenix fly
Into the realm where darkness lie.

Once was there did battle engage
As torrents of flame flew with righteous rage.
The darkness stabbed and slew, bringing much harm
But the Phoenix rose again and again to face the swarm
And the darkness cloaked him in endless night,
Yet the Phoenix prevailed with blinding sight.

The battle won, hard fought,
As the darkness scattered did he see what he sought.
There lay his elemental fatally struck,
Phyrric victory claiming his luck.
And in the air rose a beautiful song
A sorrowful lament that played ever long.

And those who heard it wept,
Tears spilling from their eyes.
Heartache as they slept,
And sorrow in their cries.
They knew the Phoenix no longer alive,
For life doesn't exist where a broken heart may thrive.

Bob West said
why are you always

looking towards
the girl’s playground?

Looking for someone
you replied

who? Bob asked  
A girl who gets

on my school bus
Bob pulled a face

and combed
his black oily hair

is she good looking?
Like an angel

you said
and peered

at the playground
across the way

where girls were
skipping or walking

in pairs
See her yet?

Bob asked
no not yet

you muttered
wishing you had

hoping she'd come
into view

don’t see any point in girls
Bob said

putting his comb away
in a top pocket

wiping his hands
on his grey trousers

my dad said
they’re only after two things

money and babies
steer away from them Bob

he said
you watched

as girls moved
about the playground

each dressed in grey skirts
and green tops

haven’t you ever
been moved by a girl?

You asked
moved? Bob said

moved?
Ain’t no girl

going to move me
he muttered

spit hanging
on his lower lip

like a suicidal
waiting to jump

what’s this angel girl got
that’s so special?

He said taking out
a handkerchief

and wiping his brow
I don’t know

you replied
and as you said it

you saw her
come in to view

outshining the sun
more beautiful

than summer
and staring at you.

The Siren song
   Sung by the Sea
   Sounded so much
   Sweeter
Before the boy
Was born.

Truth be told,
   I was born that day as well.
   We shared our first breaths.
   Delicate and enduring atmosphere.
   Sweetest, most overlooked element:
   OXYGEN
   Awoken our lungs
   And spread life out
   Through our
   Fingers,
   Toes,
   Tears.
      (His were louder,
    Mine were longer)
We shared more than
rarefied air that day;
Excitement.
Confusion.
Love.
Fear.

Before I knew it
My Scorched sailor’s skin
      Sought sanctuary
In
   Landlocked love.

You see
   The inconvenient, unfortunate, and unavoidable
   Fact of humans is,
   They like to eat.
      And warmth is also nice.
   Diapers.
   And Kathy next door just got this great icebox and she says she doesn't know how she lived    
   without it and that in the long run it will actually save her money, what with buying in bulk and not
   going to the store so often and leftovers.
   So there’s that too.

So I work
   Willingly, willfully
   With wetness
   On Back,
   But not behind ears.

And my captain is a good captain,
   A true captain.
   Our pay is always waiting when and where promised.
   Pennies are not pinched when providing rations.
   He gave me this job out of the goodness of neighborhood.
But he has no child.
   No wife.
   Little reason to head to port,
   And less to linger long.

I see my boy’s chestnut eyes in my dreams
   And they act like the cruelest potion,
   Which, when sipped
   Leaves the drinker with only more thirst.

But there are dollars here,
And, what other skills do I have?
And, bellies are full.
I try not to complain.

Tonight,
I want the fireplace,
   Roaring.
Our boy smiling, laughing
   His cheeks having played chameleon
   With the scarlet of our flag.
His mother;
   Her eyes,
   Outshining her hair,
   Outshining the sun,
   Scroll between our boy and the page,
   As she reads his favorite book of tales.
   He doesn't understand a word,
   But I do.
   We share an unnumbered smile.
   He likes the pictures.

My mouth has tasted of salt for
   64
   Long
   Days.

The ocean gives,
And the ocean takes away.

It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour,
the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes.

The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention.
Here it was common
The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional.
What's uncommon was the bold prints
of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining
The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills.
A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai,
Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil?
His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed
Still never ever seen or heard of his manners
Anywhere than in these motley banners
Just as a function
at the Tannery road junction

Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance  what do this expensive banners really mean?

In another occasion
the  glaring glorifying picture
of ARUMALAI followed the tag
Corporator,
Below the man posing a DICTATOR.
That was a period to a period of mystery!

Banners changed with seasons
with greetings on religious occasions
Festivals of importance
Birthdays of men even
with crowded profiles of hailers
Whose unrully manners
Too clogging up the banners
Like a wanted list of jailors.

One day a strange banner
hooked by the Tannery cross over
Spooked and shocked every passer-by
There the usual banner cut out
the larger than life image blings-out
Arumalai the BBMB corporator
Posing as dictator!

There was no wish of any kind.
It was a notice startling any mind
The sad demise of ARUMALAI
The BBMB corporator
Still possed as dectator
By his living promoters.

"He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation.
He was administered
the necessary treatment.
Was referred to a super-speciality
centre and was declared dead.
His sad demise was advertised, he was forty.
His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary
in major news papers...
What was the reason for the minor surgery
What're the preparations
for the corporator's  operation
All are mystery for a  causal itinerary
passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction,  wondering at the strange envountering with banners
that come and go
Keeping no annals
Floating on the mind for a while
Stopping at the red's knell,
Moving with the green signal
The rise and fall of heroes
As binary one and zero
The banners tell a story tertiary
Of the rise and fall of a luninary
Within a plane ofmomentary
Variation of red and green
On the Tannery road's screen.

Admirable, Blissful, Bewildered, Curious, Capable, Compassionate, Determined, Daring, Delighted, Dazzling, Eagar, Edgy, Enlightening Enthusiastic, Elegant, Fabulous, Fantastic, Forgiving, Fictitious, Fancy, Feminist, Glamourous, Gorgeous, Glowing, Guarded, Greatful, Generous, Gloomy, Happy, Honest, Hopeful, Humourous, Humble, Humane, Heartiest, Heavenly, Imaginative, Interesting, Inspiring, Intellegent, Incredible, Impressive, Important, Indecisive, Invisible, Jinxed, Joyous, Judicious, Justified, Jobless, Jiggish, Jimp, Jittery, Jazzy, Jaunty, Kindhearted, Keen, Knowledgable, Kiddish, Knavish, Knockout, Kempt, Kween, Kin, Kittens, Kinder, Lazy, Luxurious, Lively, Loyal, Limit, Laminated, Lawless, Lightning, Lushious, Luminous, Lovesick, Logical, Modest, Marvelous, Motivated, Music, Momentous, Mindful, Magical, Memories, Merciful, Mellow, Mesmerizing, Malicious, Mannered, Noble, Nervous, Night, Naive, Noted, Natural, Nifty, Nurturing, Never-ending, Noteworthy, Neglected, Narnia, Native, Number 1, ***, Openhearted, O Canada, Obviously, Obidient, Obsessions, Open-minded, Oriented, O.K., Observing, OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD, Omnicient, Outshining, Obliged, Obsticles, Passionate, Personally, Poetry, Picture-Perfect, Positivity, Pulse, Painful, Physic, Power, Protagnist, People-Person, Pros, and Cons, Purity, Purpose, Pleasant, Pieces, Quiet, Quality, Quick, Quoted, Queen, Quirky, Quintessentially, Quest, Quick-Minded, Questionable, Quarter, Quiver, Quiddity, Quiescent, Qui vive, Quip, Quantity, Ravishing, Rapport, Reliving, Reassuring, Rebal, Rainbows, Reckless, Relaxing, Respect, Remedy, Regrets, Right, Relatable, Reliable, Rad, Ready, Responsible, Rainy days, Sagacious, Salutary, Sassy, Secure, Self-assured, Self-reliant, Self-confident, Self-disciplined, Selfless, Sensational, Sensitive, Stars, Shawn Mendes, Sénorita, Sentimental, Set, Serene, Seamless, Significant, Sightly, Trustworthy, Talented, Tender-hearted, Thriving, Thankful, Titanic, Touché, Touchy, Transparent, True, True-blue, Traveller, Transpicuous, Titillating, Timeless,Tidy, Teasing, Tender, Terrific, Thorough, Thrilling, Unarguable, Ultimate, Undefining, Under-the-weather, Unalloyed, Unassuming, Uncommon, Understandable, Undivided, Unique, Unlimited, Unstoppable, Uplifting, Upbeat, Uber, Unconvensional, Uhuh, Unbelieveable, Under control, Unquestionable, Utter amazment, Valiant, Valuable, Valid, Veridical, Valiant, Vibrant, Vigorous, Vigilant, Victorious, Visions, Vivid, Voluptuous, Vulnerary, Vulnerable, Venust, Veracious, Vestal, Violen, Vroom Vroom, Victory, Vows, Wake me up, Wise, Welsome, Well-behaved, Welcoming, Well-grounded, Woke, Whimsical, Whistler, Wholesome, Wired, Witty, Wondrous, Whilst, Winter, Wonderful, Wide-Awake, Walk it like I take it, ****-bang, Wishful, Wellness, Worth it, World-Class, Xo, Yolo, Zero

If I could steal Saturn's ring
Or paint the sunrise in Mars
Tie the comets to a string
Or maybe pull down the stars.

Wish I could fly to North Pole
And ride the great Polaris
To make the constellations roll
Under her divine orifice.

I'd walk the whole universe
And ride the lunar crescent
Sail the heavenly rivers
To find a fitting present.

For a celestial being
Brighter than Andromeda
Among the stars outshining
In the streams of Aurora.

The Virgo on Earth descends
Zodiac to a sister's birth
And in her heart she transcends
A treasure of greatest worth.

Rail on, Rail on, ye heartless crew!
My strains were never meant for you;
Remorseless Rancour still reveal,
And **** the verse you cannot feel.
Invoke those kindred passions’ aid,
Whose baleful stings your ******* pervade;
Crush, if you can, the hopes of youth,
Trampling regardless on the Truth:
Truth’s Records you consult in vain,
She will not blast her native strain;
She will assist her votary’s cause,
His will at least be her applause,
Your prayer the gentle Power will spurn;
To Fiction’s motley altar turn,
Who joyful in the fond address
Her favoured worshippers will bless:
And lo! she holds a magic glass,
Where Images reflected pass,
Bent on your knees the Boon receive—
This will assist you to deceive—
The glittering gift was made for you,
Now hold it up to public view;
Lest evil unforeseen betide,
A Mask each canker’d brow shall hide,
(Whilst Truth my sole desire is nigh,
Prepared the danger to defy,)
“There is the Maid’s perverted name,
And there the Poet’s guilty Flame,
Gloaming a deep phosphoric fire,
Threatening—but ere it spreads, retire.
Says Truth Up Virgins, do not fear!
The Comet rolls its Influence here;
’Tis Scandal’s Mirror you perceive,
These dazzling Meteors but deceive—
Approach and touch—Nay do not turn
It blazes there, but will not burn.”—
At once the shivering Mirror flies,
Teeming no more with varnished Lies;
The baffled friends of Fiction start,
Too late desiring to depart—
Truth poising high Ithuriel’s spear
Bids every Fiend unmask’d appear,
The vizard tears from every face,
And dooms them to a dire disgrace.
For e’er they compass their escape,
Each takes perforce a native shape—
The Leader of the wrathful Band,
Behold a portly Female stand!
She raves, impelled by private pique,
This mean unjust revenge to seek;
From vice to save this virtuous Age,
Thus does she vent indecent rage!
What child has she of promise fair,
Who claims a fostering Mother’s care?
Whose Innocence requires defence,
Or forms at least a smooth pretence,
Thus to disturb a harmless Boy,
His humble hope, and peace annoy?
She need not fear the amorous rhyme,
Love will not tempt her future time,
For her his wings have ceased to spread,
No more he flutters round her head;
Her day’s Meridian now is past,
The clouds of Age her Sun o’ercast;
To her the strain was never sent,
For feeling Souls alone ’twas meant—
The verse she seized, unask’d, unbade,
And ****’d, ere yet the whole was read!
Yes! for one single erring verse,
Pronounced an unrelenting Curse;
Yes! at a first and transient view,
Condemned a heart she never knew.—
Can such a verdict then decide,
Which springs from disappointed pride?
Without a wondrous share of Wit,
To judge is such a Matron fit?
The rest of the censorious throng
Who to this zealous Band belong,
To her a general homage pay,
And right or wrong her wish obey:
Why should I point my pen of steel
To break “such flies upon the wheel?”
With minds to Truth and Sense unknown,
Who dare not call their words their own.
Rail on, Rail on, ye heartless Crew!
Your Leader’s grand design pursue:
Secure behind her ample shield,
Yours is the harvest of the field.—
My path with thorns you cannot strew,
Nay more, my warmest thanks are due;
When such as you revile my Name,
Bright beams the rising Sun of Fame,
Chasing the shades of envious night,
Outshining every critic Light.—
Such, such as you will serve to show
Each radiant tint with higher glow.
Vain is the feeble cheerless toil,
Your efforts on yourselves recoil;
Then Glory still for me you raise,
Yours is the Censure, mine the Praise.

There are too many people
With smiles outshining
Their hearts
When did it become acceptable
To say foul things
As long as we brushed our teeth
Instead of being good people
Even in ***** clothes

She has a luminescence about her
A way of outshining the neon and fluorescent
That cling to her curves as she dances beneath them
I stood there, in my second-hand persona,
wearing a mask of bravado, now whimsical with
its mouth agape, staring as she made love to the music.
I recollected myself,
remembered to breathe,
swallowed my heart,
and dared to move closer.

The rhythmic pulse of the music
threatened to crush me as my feet touched the floor-
my head still in the cloud generated by her heat,
that permeated every molecule of my body.
The closer I got, the harder it was to keep
from succumbing to the lack of air.
"Remember to breathe.
You're sweating.
Abort. NO.
Play it cool. You're cool."

I could have pieced together
A thousand words, pulled from the ether
and crafted into exactly-what-she-wanted-to-hear,
But she had taken my air.
My tongue wouldn't move with my lips
To form a simple hello.
I just stood there in my mask.
No longer whimsical.
Nearly desperate
and certain that I would die right there.

Then, in a move that writes love songs,
that creates sunsets and shifts paradigms,
SHE, this caramel-skinned goddess
Wove her warm, illuminated fingers into mine
And pulled me into that dance
That she was sharing only with the music.
Not breathing again.
Keep moving.
Stop thinking.
Just be. Right now, just be.

So, I was. Dead to time and space,
alive to the moment and the music,
Her touch, the light and the curves.
She held to me as if she read my mind;
perhaps I wear my heart in my eyes.
Eyes that she seemed to pull my soul out of
To drown it in hers, as she danced
With me.
To me. Through me.
Beyond me.
But with me, as though I were the light and the music,
and she wasn't done making love.

calling out your name in the dark
It's become an excruciating custom now
An unquenchable thirst

daylight stings and moon hovers
dispassionately
over my head
heavy with laments over a fallen crest;

Still I imagine
still I dream
that you'll tune my painful screams
into a hushing lullaby,
with a promise of forever
you'd gift my gloomy tears a twinkling gleam;

But now I'm wearing this blindfold
refusing to see the light outshining this pathetic hope ;

You are not here yet,
Maybe you never will be,

But I'm not ready to move from you yet,
And I doubt that I'll ever will be free

From these painful lumps,
burning eyes
swollen throat
and prickled heart
emptying it's blood,
so slowly that years go by
And I can now feel the quitting of daylight
while my blindfold lets out a long sigh;
as if stating to end
this idiotic nonsense
of tucking heartbreak and love
under these lyrical verse;

I do not know who I am and there's really nothing sadder than this,
especially when people are constantly questioning you about who you want to be and you don't know what to say or how to act.

I can hardly keep my thoughts together, I don't know how to put them in order. And I--
I am losing myself everyday as I give everything my utmost devotion,
only to find out that I have not been given any in return. 

At this hour of night, I feel empty and useless.
And it's probably true that this tear-stained sheet of paper I'm embedding my thoughts in will mean more to me than I ever did to anybody.

And it's sad because I could never blame them. 
There isn't a specific character that is outshining the radiance of others to love. 
There aren't anymore dreams, or hopes, or hobbies to hold on to. 

Everything is a lie. My entire being is a lie. 
I am caught at intersection point, 
attempting to busy myself by etching out words on the graveyard.

"Come be my savior."
You are not there, and you will never be.
You, my darling, are a lie as well. 

I am not able to kick, or writhe, or scream,
for I am trying to jot down what I'm thinking.
And sometimes when you don't know what you're thinking or why you're thinking,
you just remain completely frozen, with your breath ****** straight out of your lungs 
by those you love the most. 

I can never rely on anyone. 
Nobody cares about you no matter how much they state they do.
They are all a lie, too. 

I am immortal, and I am utterly dead.
I can hardly feel my fingertips at the touch of this pen 
as I am encompassed by a numbness so cold it burns.
For I am a lie, as well.

The ocean and the sky
The place where the end and the endless meet
The place where they dance with golden embers of fire
The ocean and the sky
The place where the endless and the end meet

Hazel eye
Outshining the darkening sky
And the dancing ocean premise
Brilliant laughter
Brighter than the dying star

The ocean and the sky,
Where all the ends meet

i saw you in the moon

it was comforting. most people attribute their
       (eternity)
special someone to the sun. you were never that for me.
you were many countless, irreplaceable, unknown qualities
that i wanted. none of them were glaringly obvious.
besides, i am never in the light.
i am always in the dark.
       (the deep and lovely dark)
i am never lost there. i never needed a star to guide me home –
i was home already.
what i wanted
       (craved)
was the steady presence to remind me
that i was not alone.
the moon is always there, you know – even when you can’t see it.
so, i look up as night falls
       (that black curtain sweeping down, down)
and hope you’re somewhere
       (happy)
nearby, looking at that round rock in the blackness,
outshining all the rest.
i know it’s not a star, but i make a wish anyway:
your name
       (a prayer, whispered)
followed by three little words.

we're used to disappointment
our eyes shine brighter
without lights to guide them

we'll hold hands when we're done
when the moon isn't  the only thing
capable of outshining the sun

the night whispers in our ears
and the days rush forward
turning into years

we're used to disappointment -
we can't find stars in clear skies
so we don't need them to guide our eyes

For ages
Saddled with
Domestic chores
Confined indoors
With a traditional muzzle
Devoid of a voice
With fellow housewives
We were sweltering
Under the class
And gender yoke
Seen weak though
We were strong as a rock.

Things taking
A positive turn,
When people about
Women's potential
Came to learn,
Enjoying a level ground
And expertise,
An outshining
Women farmers
We have begun to enjoy
A handsome return.

After unremitting exertion
In a special way
Drawing attention
Investor we have indeed
Created job opportunities
For numerous in need
On their turn who have
Many mouths to feed.

We members of the fair ***
If not denied a chance
Could outsmart
Many a man, in a given
Task, grappling with his part.

In the Science
And political arena
Ladies that prove brilliant
Must come to the limelight.

In the military
And peacekeeping task
On the athletics track...,
There are also women
Who merit a tap on the back.

Breaking the double yoke
Must be the era's talk
Gender based discrimination
Should  no longer  pose
In development's wheels
A spoke!
Let  this volubly
Resonate from
North to South
And from Beijing
To New York!

a lady of colorful blood
prepped in white uniform
she'll put your heart back together
whenever you feel down or torn

she deeply loves a boy
as if he's from her books
way past his words and actions,
way past his looks

ointments of her embrace
and her medicinal laughter
she dreams and doesn't know it
but she's already a doctor

sometimes her puns are die-worthy
yet sometimes they give life
she cures with her compassion
and bandages the strife

people give her their sadness
in return, is happiness, she gave
all will be unnumbered--
those lives which she saved

i liken her to the sun
i liken her to the stars
i liken her to the brightness
outshining the scars of dark hearts

she's no plain jane
she's no ordinary girl
i brought her into my life
and she brought healing to my world

Strawberry lips
Words never sounded so sweet
Everyone likes strawberries though
I don't believe

Warm skin
The cold never seemed so distant
Nobody likes being cold though
The feeling is instant

Smiling eyes
Outshining all frowns
Nobody likes tears
You could put a woman down

Gentle soul
Intimidation something one could not see
Everyone loves a kind heart
Everyone would be better than me

The moon is beautiful in her solitude.
From afar she is like a pearl, pure white
Like milk.
Though she knows multitudes:
She is not white like a pearl, smooth like
silk.
Surfaces are cratered, tumultuous, grey and not white.
Sometimes she is shy, disappearing behind clouds and shadowed trees,
As if she were scared of her own light.
She waxes, she wanes, she decreases
And fades, only to become brighter than ever.
She knows what it is like to be ever -changing, outshining everything in
Her splendor.

Like her, I want to illuminate dark skies.

About it, you made the right choice it
All worked out in the end there were
Parades and balloons and you earned a
Trophy
Earned, not received

And they never pop, never dull
Limp with fractured wrists and arms and
Popcorn full to the threatening point of
Bursting, but they hold on for you

Watch your eyes *****, spewing dark sky
Studded with stars in the hopes of
Outshining all our halogen
Smiles

A ring of natural perfume is adorned on you neck
like the sweet dew of April mornings.

Chains of daisies and dandelions,
which hold a thousand wishes each,
connects like bonds created by
you and me.

Let my hair fall
and inhale comforting bliss
while exhaling bothersome regrets.

Watch the sun kiss the earth goodnight
as it lets the sky open
to glittering stars.

None are capable of outshining the twinkle in your eye
or the shine of those soft lips.

None can compare to you,
an April diamond,
flawless and perfect to many

Smooth edges and clear soul,
a birthstone destines to resonate
within the heart, soul, and mind.

Small, twinkling star,
out before your siblings,
shining bright before the
dusk has fully set.
I don't know what you are,
bright star,
but you are mine.
At least for tonight you are mine.

Sitting above the trees
in a darkening blue abyss
I can see through my window
between the slits in the blinds
how you move
slowly ever downward in the sky.
Let down your silvery hair
and leave a trail of stardust
to my windowsill.
I don't know what you are called,
but tonight I call you mine.

And as the darkness
filters through my window and
crawls along my bed
I will watch you descend the heavens.
Bright celestial body,
outshining the waning moon tonight,
I will sleep beneath your caresses
and dream of your embrace.

The starlight sings to the dead of night
crimson lullabies from times long gone,
stories of sorrow, love and might
that keep the dark entranced til the break of dawn.

Though the sun rises, outshining the stars
their shimmering voices can still be heard,
their silver tongues weave tales of Mars
the great God of War and the battles he spurred.

They croon of the lovely Venus, goddess of love
whose body beguiled the lustful soul of man,
whose beauty enchanted realms below as above
and inspired tomes of poetry as only woman can.

As the sun grows weary and his brilliance fades,
and the cotton candy sky gives way to ebony,
as the phantom moon begins her promenade,
the stars reemerge and resume their symphony.

All the questions I could ask myself
About you and I and we and us
Does not hold a candle to the truth outshining us.
I do not need to hear your words, although you know I long to.
You've slipped away, a swaying phase, unsteady as the moon
In your island you're always hiding far out of reach for me.
I know the rules and I try to tip-toe around them.
Caught in a roulette wheel, shooting myself in the foot.
Swinging on the vines like Tarzan in the jungle, my Jane
Does not belong to me, enamored, enchained,
To this life I'm in, I shall indeed remain.
You are a glittering spotlight far away,
The light tower,
And I am only a glint in the corner of your eyelash,
I might cower,
The instant you turn to me, the minute you decide to fight for me.
The right hour
I am able to be yours, in this life, if ever, you have me,
So clever, wrapped in maroon silk cocoon, staved away,
For you, alone, always unable to love another, steal me from my lover like plunder, come find me on my shores
And take what has always been yours.

In the last days of school, the first days of summer, we pile into a car. All these people I'm not close to suddenly become my best friends. I'm contented to go where they drive, my head hanging out the front seat window into the distinctly summer-tinted air. We pull up to the city gardens with a pizza, dancing to The Strokes and the beating of the world's heart, alive around us. I make everyone clover crowns. He is the King, his thoughtful brown eyes outshining his careful smile. I am the Queen. One and Another, the Prince and Princess he with his pleasant, measured voice and her trills of brilliant laughter. And the too-old senior tagged along for who knows what reason, is the Jester, loathe to wear the effeminate flowers above his ears. We climb things. We somersault. We throw loving insults up to the wind like kites. We hoot and holler at the blue blue sky and the koi fish in ponds, dancing along the stone borders. So close to falling into the algae.
We sing the summer in.
The Jester has never known true right from wrong, he is learning to live on his own, with the scars on his arms and face. He is not welcome at home anymore. The Prince is moving back across a world into the arms of a now unfamiliar life, nothing waits for him there but the promise of his next powdery high. The King's mother has three months to live, all we can do is wait. The Princess and I, the Queen of the wild rumpus, finally lay down to count clouds.
We have nothing left.

Its swallowed me whole the blackness of it all. The winding roads of your heart. The drop and rise of your voice
Like butter
Like jam
Like honey

You smoke your cigarette on the porch of your rusted **** trailer
Curled up with your chin on your knees
In a broken spray painted plastic chair
Your veins run blue
A dark evening in which
The orange cherry glow around your lips cast shadows on the wall

I don't understand why I love you
When I hardly know you
Your black hair
Soft skin

The torn siding taps on the wall
The cool wind through the porch
The wind chimes make beautiful songs
As you blow smoke in constant notes of sadness

Surrounded on three sides by dark mist covered mountains
7 country miles to the nearest person

My head spins
As the old warmth grows from my stomach
You have so many empty pill bottles poking up from your purse

You sit quiet as you begin to float off this broken porch
Out into that cool night of nowhere
Her green eyes glow bright
Outshining the naked sixty watt bulb on the wall
Moths circle
And bump against the warmth

I never want to leave you
As you put up your hair
As the truck turns to rust in the yard


But you know
That I know I'm nothing special
And you have plans that don't have room for me

Southern Belle
With a head full of dreams
Your skin smells like fresh cut birch bark
Your hair like a warm summer night


*"You know
It gets beautiful around here
Once spring is in full swing
I was hoping you would at least stay til then"

Agnes in London*


1

unprepared for this
the tall door opens
and there are the paintings
72in x 72in and full of nothing
the most delicate stripes of colour
‘midst an intricacy of making
nothing else but beauty
and the mystery of life

2

Here’s what’s left of her beginnings
after the landscapes the portraits
the biomorphic forms : abstraction
so very green with loneliness
and the wish to be the solitary self

3

She wanted to be like Picasso
a painter who worked hard
this room is full of that hard work
experimental embroidered forms
beginnings symptomatic of ‘the grid’
set amongst sculptured objects found
roughly brought together
urban : hard-edged

4

Just three compositions
the beaten gold leaf of *Islands
the Chinese go board of Friendship
the nothingness of Grey Stone
you saw the meticulously pencilled
hardly visible lines – hiding

5

More of the same but
noticing the rectangle
set inside the square
the all-important border
and the pin-pricked holes
for a guiding thread?

6

On a clear day
rise and look around you
how it will astound you
that glow of your being
outshining every star
. . . the Streisand song
a clue to expressing
an innocence of mind
or thirty variations
on a simple grid

7

The colour of the rock
at dawn at noon at sunset
Agnes in the desert
a soft brush on acrylic gesso
dividing colour fields
with the graphite pencil
masking tape and metal ruler
subtle irregularities
a liquid pooling of paint
when viewed close to

8

The greyness you loved
and sat transfixed
to view the textures
I could barely grasp
they were floating therein
a reduction of means

9

neither objects nor space
nor time nor anything
there in this silence
of the whispering kind
at the still centre
you told me you saw
a blueness in all this white
these twelve canvases
of acrylic paint
and graphite line

10  

Here her final work
a drawing on paper
rich in the tremor of inconsistency
conveying (the catalogue said)
a sense of optical vibration
art as a realm
of transcendent experience
like nature itself

11

her final canvases
a return to an earlier time
uncomfortably so for me
No longer work
at rest with itself
it reaches out
towards inevitability
and the futility of death
when the painting has to stop

Premonition
by Michael R. Burch

Now the evening has come to a close and the party is over ...
we stand in the doorway and watch as they go—
each stranger, each acquaintance, each unembraceable lover.  

They walk to their cars and they laugh as they go,
though we know their bright laughter’s the wine ...
then they pause at the road where the dark asphalt flows
endlessly on toward Zion ...

and they kiss one another as though they were friends,
and they promise to meet again “soon” ...
but the rivers of Jordan roll on without end,
and the mockingbird calls to the moon ...

and the katydids climb up the cropped hanging vines,
and the crickets chirp on out of tune ...
and their shadows, defined by the cryptic starlight,
seem spirits torn loose from their tombs.

And I know their brief lives are just eddies in time,
that their words are unreadable runes
unlikely to stand in this waterlogged land
when their corpses lie ravaged and ruined ...

You take my clenched fist and you give it a kiss
as though it’s something to be loved,
and the tears fill your eyes, outshining the night
and all the stars ringed high above ...

and you whisper, "It's time that we went back inside;
if you'd like, we can sit and just talk for a while."
And the hope in your eyes burns too deep, so I lie
and I say, "Yes, I would," to your small, troubled smile.

I vividly remember writing this poem after an office party the year I co-oped with AT&T (at that time the largest company in the world, with a lot of office parties). This was after my sophomore year in college, making me around 20 years old. The poem is “true” except that I was not the host because the party was at the house of one of the managers. Nor was I dating anyone seriously at the time.

Keywords/Tags: premonition, foreboding, time, loss, death, office party, wine, laughter, shadows