launched into incarceration
the dealer plays the womb
a new beggar gestates

coalescence weaves the mortal wreath
then kicked awake
to the preachers wail
bending prophesy to fit the ear

plasticine matrix
the cast is set
innocent eyes, thick as wood
place first steps upon the range

sentence obscure

lockdown
under cultures taste
round round circles
wear mind thin, numb
with why?

Choiceless
laden limbs form
losses bemoaned
as flies hover

The winds of winter, gone, 
green shoots fan their buds,
the geisha girls of spring are here, 
they flaunt their powers,
seduction of the many who admire, 
they capture our attention
with their delicate attire,
entice our participation in their dance, 
each moment of the day they decorate,
enhance, what would the rivers do
without these ushers by their sides, 
the fish need shade, protection from the sun; 
so varied in design, of different shape and size, 
every one a picture worth, they make the scene 

A woman waits by the gate
No one comes to see her

Time doesn’t heal all the hurt

Life seems as though it’s just fate
She’s never had it’s measure

Always felt like dirt

Children’s grins and twinkled eyes
Brings near to a face of stone

A faint and somewhat smile

More than enough time gone by
She has been so much alone

Been way too long a while

Longing heart trips a hammer beat
Eyes crinkle in disbelief

The prodigal son returns

·

To All Motherless Children on Sunday

Let's take our fondest
memory, and walk with
her once more.
Follow the lilac, peony or
cherry blossom scents
home,
then close the front door.

~~

For Helen.

~~~~~~~~~~

To All Childless Mothers

Neopoet Renga 5

Ethnics soon sunder
our forefathers origin
tumult from terra

Gods fight for control north, south
new race emerge to power

Two sovereign one God
appear from the aftermath
the red white and blue

Blood stained forever now
but new ideals bring change

Irishman no stress
it's always dry in the pub
amused by panic

Guinness slow to settle down
Waits to quell the thirst of man

That all nations die
Not knowing our present
Stops all the worry

You stonewalled just long enough
to get your sorry self re-elected
by refusing questions you deemed tough
at last comes the unexpected

Your threats against "mere" underlings
won't keep them from testifying
as whistleblowers start to sing
about eight months of your own lying

And Clinton screamed "What does it matter!?"
she really meant "DO NOT bother Me!!"
now she'll see her presidential hopes shatter
for misjudging voter apathy

The river runs slow today
As do my thoughts.
Continents of ice collide and separate
over a grey green field of quiet water.
Snow falls at random.
Flakes swirl or streak as god wills
as uncontrolled as my thoughts
White pin holes in a grey and formless day.

I rage at self inflicted wounds.
Afflicted with terminal incompleteness.
I Feel the cold of an empty being.
Yet also the warm solitude of self.

I sense the labyrinth that leads to clarity
Bringing flowers to Algernon; joyfully.

sexicity tis
we all can imagine
how difficult it's
to resist the dark raven black hair
strewn all about
and
then there remains no further invitation
without a doubt
one….!
you are marvelous
many will wonder
what you must have been
when youthful
as you perhaps are still
not still
roving discerning eyes
do kill
when tis
the till
with free will

void a check
crushed like a fender slender

pull it tight
back from the skew
strut on and on

glamour smash

paint fleck and rust dust
your glitter annointments
the gleaming backscatter

crawling hunger licking
like a hot blue wave

It came to me as I browsed my pictures
That time of nature was evolving
Changing life forms each day
A creep of a vine, the swelling bud
That in time will bear flowers

A sanctuary for the busy bees that awake
Yet I have heard that drone of the humble
Way before the bee, sipping the early flower
Bumble, I wonder why they seem to be drunk
Holding onto those blooms in fresh breezes