EMPTY SPACES

I stand in an empty place
reaching far and wide
no horizons to hold onto,
and I am lost in vertigo.

useless are recollections
short flashes of life done
replayed in Death’s refraction.
meaningless are words
for they only say, never truly tell.
fearful is the silence I hear
hollow echoes of my prayers
into infinite spaces. *

*BLAISE PASCAL: “Le silence éternel de ces espaces infinis m’effraie” [The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me.” ]

Drifting in slowly, the early morning fog of
love’s heat colliding softly with the chill of emptiness.
The total being wrapped within a deep damp mist.

Thoughts just drunken derelicts bumping
together in the haze, adding nothing but confusion.
Mental compass points obscured.

Loneliness the soul mate now.
The stillness finally shattered by the
silent scream for help that only God can hear.

The room is dank and stale,
bedsheets and underwear shudder
in the closet bottom.

There, mucus stains
and bits of broken chicken bones
lie strewn as the slain
after Troy was sacked.

Windows are dark and dirty,
haunting curtains fly
as the lonesome winds sigh.

Pretentious music faintly sings:
bit-sized string quartets
chime a jolly melody
to an imaginary audience.

The mind grows faint from
pleasure's distress,
and foreboding what
may never come.

Tenuous grasp on reality
slipping into the bliss of fantasy
wrapped in dreams so cosily
everythings looking rosy

Lulled into a sense of security
forgetting about office CCTV
caught napping secretly
boss eyeing me sternly

Oh, dear woe is me
now there'll be no break for tea
atmosphere shrouded in hostility
reality gripping me firmly

The air is absolutely still
on this cool late autumn day
and such a cloudless crystal blue
one sneeze could blow it all away

It's Thanksgiving and the limbs are bare
each tree a sketch of varied gray
save scattered green cedars and pines
where the finches flit and play

Far shore's reflected on the pond
standing the whole world on its head
where the red hawks soar inverted
and rising sun turns the ground red

Sing

sing of it children, free and unafraid
each syllable's ring, each consonant laid
laugh at the high spot, weep into the blue
bemoan wet feet from the holes in your shoe
rest in the chemical scent of her shade

As time passes that sunlit serenade
will hold you up and fix your barricade
you'll ponder how much she remembers you
sing of it children

Perched on his knee
a time of glee
we were going to play horsey
jumping up and down
always acting the clown
he made me giddy with joy
my uncle, a big strapping boy

My memories are distant
I wrack my brain, torment
trying to think when we stopped visiting
parents busy, his life not permitting

Waves of energy flow off your wings
seep into them weeping hope springs
cradled my head smoothing back hair
bring me to peace show me you care

Revealed in an atom of radiated joy
bathing in bliss , pain cannot enjoy
evermore near nor evermore farther
I wander this planet scared and scarred

My angel of mercy rapture pure heart
brought me in closer never to part
silky soft kisses that light up the dawn
makes a heart joyful never you mourn

You are Rumpelstiltskin, of our time
with thread; you spin out gold in verses
In the fixture of words, a master
of confusion and of mysteries
abrasively noshing verse lovers
with astute adjectival phrases
This poet is a teacher of logic
throwing up inevitable traps
in simple puzzle to mesmerize

Ringing of steel
Slams as it closed
Made with bars
for be juxtaposed

Turning of key
Snap of the lock
Prison is made
Of concrete and block

No crime committed
Yet price be paid
Sins from another
Onto me was laid

Six long years
I will patiently stitch
A master plan
go off without hitch

For I know
That we both know
Who really is the lier
When I get out of here
I'm bringing brimstone and fire