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.

Lost Seasons

the seasons of man
hold no real significance
save the final one

Hints

scant are these blue skies
rare of January’s hues
painting hints of spring

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

Writer

imagine the scene
a minor man of letters
running out of stamps

Naming Monkeys

I spend my time most wisely
naming the various monkeys
my fantasies gestate
all dependent of course
on what they bring
to the table, or my back
and that which they take away.
Eduardo brought a waistcoat
and left with ankle bells
basically he named himself,
but Crystal, on the other hand,
needed more convincing,
even though she danced a go-go,
after leaving me a faded
sepia tinged photograph
of a once grand
ostentatiously appointed
white plantation house
in Kentucky, I assumed,
where she once picked up a pair
of silver thigh high boots.
But Dan, oh Dan
a most suitably appointed handle
would never, ever
come a running, or a hanging
no matter how long I called.

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