Heritage

reduced now
to garden furniture
marigold machinery
atop manicured lawns
in commuter belt
gated settlements,
a dockside warehouse finery
of ambient boutiques
gin palaces
and sweatshop chic aplenty

ah, lad! I remember when all this was factories.

An Angel Escapes

this soul is not pure
yet in the light of your smile
an angel escapes

Older Poems #24 : LARGHETTO

stoic strings of tears
run their tracks
to my life’s blood
reflecting waves
of sadness displayed
which words alone
dare not expose.

le rêve oublié

He woke from a dream
that shined for a brief moment
before it faded

The Cursed Poet

what heaven’s beauty in his lines
this poet of the open skies
wonder lives aside with madness
in the ballad monger’s eyes
as how can simple flesh extol
for its peers nature’s rich ways
to try, an odyssey so senseless
can but insanity relay.

Fragment

on blackbird’s blue wings do they fly
pearlescent feathered thoughts on high
from abstract mind, departures new
that turn to birdsong next to you

Chemistry

fevered reveries
dreams expressed in chemistry
aroused reactions

Cold Comfort

among these cold remains
clinging to this dark cathedral
small birds, as do their prey
seek signs of the resurrection
the coming spring’s communion

They Are The Lost

they are the lost
who revel in the dead gods
and will deny
all but the stories
that validate old lies

they are the lost
who live in yesterdays
of fetish to bronze
and stone and the scorched earth
of glorious pasts

they are the lost
unable to find a place
within the run of time
which has passed them by
and left them lost

Flowers Know

the trains can’t break the backs
of the wildflowers on the tracks
they bend, they sway
but seldom cry
I cannot even wonder why
they tolerate our haste
perhaps because they know
our time too will soon pass.