another night when sleep
is devoured

out of darkness
to coolly caress my cheek
a gentle
spring’s breath flutters
laced with the taste of
bitter-sweet memories

a melancholic melody
a ballad that recalls past simple days
sends soft slow blues
wending to meet my soul
with reflections on what
now seem fiction stories

an alien mass sits
inside my chest
a surreal loss of control
sends pain
that rides burnt waters to my eyes

Being

Nowhere does the sun feel as good
Nowhere does the wind blow as gently
Than in the heart of a peace loving man.

Ian.T
1957

Where now are the men of peace ?
I want to scream and shout
Who pleads for calm in crowded cities
urging mobs to stop and think
if their God approves

For now is the time for all brothers
regardless of their birth or faith
to unite against barbarian fanatics
and let them know..ENOUGH!

Tell them that they are not Godly
at least not to any God we love
they are no ally to Allah
no followers of Christ
no friend to Buddah
no believer in any True religion

blithely adding to
and making reduction of
the population
which invented Zeus
those high living gods
of old Olympus
asked for sacrifice, destruction

uncaring

until their creators
voted
against them

we read of
their downfall
their flaws

for mankind finally wrote into
the history of myth
mishaps of
no-longer-wanted-deities
(deciding, perhaps
one god would do)
and had them annihilated
in a heavenly war

you taught me to soar
without wings
to paint with words
 to sleep
 on the clouds
to hug and kiss the stars
 to sway
and bask the best of the day
even if it were dark
you taught me 
every little hearty bit
 

almost everything I want

but you never
told me
where- when you leave
to keep
my heart
 

Grrrrl for Mia Zapata by RW

I float forward
welcome
no rules
love is the
razor code
that belongs to them

Though she is gone, I went to her
went to her
went to her
we are free
my ghost left me that day
it's more complicated now
buenos noches
buenos dias
she is here 29 now......she raids undefeated

in 17 hours, her blood, maroon

drips off the bottom step

A few full moons have passed
yet none
shone
on my face.

and of all the flocks that
have flown over  in my sky
little if any
of their chirps
filled
my space

As you can see,
 on the so *cold long run
only silence rang
 or  knocked on my place.
 

*called

Mapwork by RW
-
Mapwork
inside my eyelids
pressed
white flash
-
traces of magnesium stars flutter
-
fireflies in May between retina and lens
-
is this the stroke, where it begins
-
extremities are feeling numb
-
pay to live now pay to crumble
-
-
Striking laughter winds in rage
-
ripping ground does it assauge?
-
or is it just another reminder
-
of the ants under the spyglass
-
our human race
-

we are at the bridge
in a balancing act

between Dionysus
and Apollo -
primitive apes and
civilized human beings

attempting to harmonize
instinctual wholeness
immediacy
primal joy

and
self-controlled
sober
scientific rationale

really
a very unstable condition
.

did she tremble as the stag horns burst through
icy, untouchable
pointing judgments of
the poet as housemaid
the laureate academic
collecting a pulitzer for his first dead wife's work
His best friend and true wife stood seven years
before ground sleeping pills and a gas oven
ate the air, the daughter too.....mouth open lips purple blue
did you get him back? He married a year later
Assia the Lilith of this tale.

I wonder

if in afterlife are you in tornado caterwaul with Sylvia