When all the birds have flown,
remains their song.

Among the pebbles in the brook,
along the branches green,
through gaps in forest trees.

The sky, its bugle blue,
the shaking raindrops oscillate
to hit the ground,
resound with little thuds
on trodden leaves.

Within this peace,
the memory of many things throng,
we start to dream of spring,
and all that's sad is gone.

bare bulb
flicks / flecks
cracked plaster ceiling
dangling
a frizzy / frazzeled string
swinging and swaying as
upstairs thumpers
loving steady
rock
rhythems of humdrum
perfunctory

a smokey glaze distorts
disturbing soot faced
backstreet manoevers,
and all the goings-on of
a dirty downtown byway
my home away
today
to play
the starving artist, man!

i found it strange
that i am waiting
for the day before the dawn
along this setting of the sun
within this arc of arcing ray
waiting for the alarm bell cocking
crowing on the day of day
i found it strange
this hesitant
this dark before the fall of night
and on this ebb of ebbs it follows
as the light trickles double
as the moon has twice his way
but just before the evening hollows
and turning night turns into day
i found it strange
how noon days sun
often turns to midnight moon

If only we can hold on to it
Feel and live just as it went
I will forever look forward to you
You paint my thoughts with hope
It's on your foundation that am a success
I stood at my porch every morning with the strength I gained during your visit
Your absence each night is the knock of bitterness
Your embrace is the warmth of peace
The light that makes a glorious morning
It's for you I look forward to dusk
For each second away from you is a threat to my hope
Come to me and bless me an icon among men

In this chamber safety
still sleeps
Darkness surrounds me such
sweet relief

Categorized by infinitesimal
proportions
Plagiarized into uncomfortable
contortions

Supporting my belief in
solitude, these walls hold me
Reporting isolation as what my
soul needs

I believe my mind id wandering
far away from home
I believe I shouldn't wait
my soul yearning to roam

My dreams,
Are they dreams?
leave emptiness inside
Ahollow home was made right
before my very eyes

Another Dead Pauper thoughts…

Who’ll take my place as a pauper,
when I die horribly from being poor.
Will they say it’s right and proper,
to pick another who’ll die for sure.

Strange to write or speak of death,
when I feel it’s hand on my shoulder.
You can smell it’s sour, rancid breath,
every day as you strive to be older.

Fear it, say no, they say it’s inevitable,
that means it’s pretty much a certainty.
Of course I wish it was avoidable,
me thinks I’m in a gang of plenty.

On the edge of clifftops
Stretching from the darkened South
To Northward glow of distant town
We lay upon the fragrant grass
Night's soft touch cool on our skins
And watched the glitter of the stars
Until our passions took control
And led us into urgency
And eagerness-

-"but what was that?"

worn the strident bones
like chestnut limbs
on a ledge of structure

Into the clasp of worn
brass the jar
the glass declines
into a darkened deep
the handle the sleeve

A sleep like winter
crawling in the little
breaths
these easing deaths
a vein like an ant
in a dream marching

the shiny sting
beneath the hot
filament

firmament
sheen
an eye
drowned as
an angel
dilating

Gemini's
and true paternal
twins

mean
furrowed brow
snarly smile
impulse
unedited
undiluted
my fist flew
teeth a'flying
and he's down to his knees

it felt good

so tired of these
nasty ass mother fuckers'
attitude attacks

one punch,
or a thousand,
won't change anything
but it felt good
really good!

and to my consternation,
I felt damn good about it

The first light frost of autumn
glistens beneath the rising sun
like a quilt of clearest quartz
declaring that warm nights are done.

Leaves which till now were all green
will soon reveal their hidden shades
joining with their vibrant brothers
while wild geese honk their serenades.

There drops a single poplar leaf
gliding golden to the ground,
it floats slowly limb to limb
to rest with kinfolk all around.