Cry the Shoah;
Life was more splendid
In the company of Noah.
Now Muhammad rages—
Bloodies all the pages:
Can’t our child tremble at a first kiss?
Where did we go wrong? What went amiss?
Pagans, heroes, and martyrs,
All greet the dawn;
Who amongst us despairs
At the Spring’s new mowed lawn?
What ersatz supremacy has mastered
Over the Lunar Penumbra?
Colours convex and illuminate,
While toiled souls, lost, crumble.
And tomorrow comes soft;
Plans made, bed made, bread spread marmalade;
The race renewed for best laid plans.
Bainwood for The Quarter is in better trade.
While the rain lingers oer the park
As an old heart passes from light to dark.
In the flat awful of your newly broken heart,
Find that space for a (yes) scant new start.
It’s a hard surprise, a twist in the plot;
It’s your chance to show ’em what you got–
A vision true to see over the far yonder hill:
That happiness can still find you, I know it will!
So repair to a bed that druther entertain two
That is again graced with the joy of just you.
Wait on tomorrow.
See the new day.
Start a new poem!
Words often fail
A touch brushes by
We all shiver
Hoping against hope
The chord lingers
She turns to face
And traces with her fingers
Open your mind
Open your grasp
Close upon my heart
And feel me gasp
Before the bottle opens
And we tumble in the sand
I want to have earned you
Making you smile and safely grand
To dance beyond tomorrow
And chase horizons together
You had me at the pool game
So knock me over with your feather
Because you’re my firebird
Your flame burns so well
I’m not going anywhere
Can you tell?
The pain of his past rested on the front of his eyes,
Memory tempted then mocked and let loose in droplets.
Where now can pale usefulness express its wont?
How will tomorrow find reason inside old couplets?
Full-time folly found rest upon the other slack shoulder,
And swirling, the promise and the lie presented opportunely;
Yet a path coursed beyond the copse, bidding one to follow;
New memory scorned to breach history, to grow jejunely.
An old minstrel parsed a chord, and improved;
The song of song that choirs failed yet chimed aloud;
While pan wrens sauntered and soared ever above,
Dodging the eagles, falling, sprinting to eclipse yon cloud.
Tears will dry with hope and future and chance rekindled;
Goats may prance upon thatched roofs, high and mighty,
But the parson-chaplain rises early to great the new day,
And pale usefulness finds expression, keen and rightly.
Einaudi lingers on the stereo
As burnt chicken wafts thru the door
Happiness takes its turn to go
The reason why matters not any more
I’d give anything for one more chance
But life’s not as easy as a Cajun dance
Tomorrow will be a lesser day
Twas oft told to watch what you say
The cat wants to so go outside
As paltry aromas scale thru a crack
Nuances are things I could never abide
And now she is another you’ll never get back
I’d give anything for just one more walk
But life’s much more than marbles and chalk
Dawn comes so early in the day
The sooner you’ll be off one might say
The keyboard rings out its golden tune
Time to drain a merlot glass quick
Bedtime approaches too ready and ever soon
Cat calls his return with condescension thick
Lonely and longing lie buried deep and strong
Life’s losses are worse when you know you’re wrong
Tomorrow will be another lesser day
A fresh curtain for any farce or threadbare play
Run jump quick
Roll over, play dead
Fetch this stick
What’s your name?
Rover? Jay? Fred?
Let’s have another game
There’s no crate
You’re totally free range
Ain’t that great?
OH! We’d better go outside
Seems you liked dinner,
But THAT Mama can’t abide.
Time for bed
Yeah we have a little sister
But I like you so much better instead
Here’s some pillow to borrow
Oh there’s so much we’re gonna do
Sleep tight…see ya tomorrow!
Love and Sex and chocolate coconut ice cream cakes,
But, sweet little momma, that’s not at all what it takes
To keep me intrigued and glued next to you,
And I bet you haven’t got the slightest clue—
Hand in hand you silently listen to my silly wannabe poems:
The warm attention matters much more than a hand that roams;
And the walks thru our neighborhood, pensive and royal
While sharing the road with bushy-tailed tree rats keeps me loyal
To the witty little brown-tressed smartly aging hippy goddess,
Though I must confess I adore how you majestify that skirted dress.
Back home we Cajun, cavort, zydeco, and swing, then waltz—
Sharing a trite wine we talk talk talk as the ringing laughter never halts.
We go together to Yorkshire and the playoffs and follow the Doctor.
Remember study hall with that mirthless lazy upperclassman proctor?
You showed me how to find the stupid area under the curve,
As I developed an image to kiss you, but never had the nerve.
Now we laugh at our grays and ponder richly the latest wrinkle,
[But you could spare me those raised eyebrows when I try to go tinkle.]
The sun approaches the far horizon and together we’ll learn
How the endtimes will play out for the likes of we old lovers in turn.
Thank you for the Together, the Love, and the Let’s See What Tomorrow Brings;
Can’t wait for our next day and the hundred million little pay attention things.
Hey, let’s go write our names on the beach,
Just don’t ever be too far out of reach,
Loving you is all it ever takes—
Yes, I did say chocolate coconut ice cream cakes!