Round orbs of light swirl in the dark night sky
Which float above an endless world of hate
Their light absolves all fear of youthful death
The wars, they rage around our children's souls
Disease and hunger steal their life away
Here in this war torn world no one is safe
Children look to these strange orbs for comfort
They hope that when they die they will go there

Wounded, I can't speak of the knives
The ones that cut me so I bleed
Old scars have been re-opened
They fester with dirt swept under the rug

Poison arrows fly at me from ambush
and I bravely struggle on
Holding the shield to protect my heart
I cannot find Plan B

You couldn't possibly invent history,
no toe can get a foothold around an
idea whose time has come.

I tell you the honest truth, it wasn't Professor
Plum in the drawing room with the smoking
gun, it was DNA that committed the crime
and made the difference that originated
all children of a lessor God committing the
sin of skin.

The turmoil poets face,
To relieve all tension,
That mostly women create,
By their ill-choosing,
Since men only bask,
In the sun of glorified victory
They bake out of a hot oven

Then men move on remorseless,
To another similar,
Future likely haven...

Women alone recall life
Like crumpled autumn leaves,
Trampled by rapid winds of scorching time,
Lost in the dust of mental disintegration

Then in place of a smile,
They spend weeping all their while.

Tonight the northern star and I will speak
Together will see the power of fantasy
No alarm to wake me or lingering responsibilities

No fee to pay only the spark of friendship
No slithering monotony to have its way with me
I know it seems optimistic, in a cosmos so twisted

The sounds of grand pianos play until daybreak
Festive wine poured into every glass this night
That dream is not just vivid, it’s ready to be lived

Crudius woke up when a comet
rocked his chamber and his hall.
He found up on the open fields
carcases of an eon's worth
of life wiped out by fire.

He greedily gathered fruitful harvest
to his caverns underground.
There he lit himself a fire
and put them in the kettle room.

Crudius stirred till all became
as black as carbon, raw and sweet.
He left his experimental stew
to liquify and to purify,
to cover all the deepest pits
and to wait till new life begun.
Then Crudius went to sleep.

When everyone wore a fedora
And smoked fifty dollar cigars
Ate in the finest of restaurants
Mixed with the brightest of stars

When life was a little bit gentler
With tennis and tea on the lawn
And everyone dressed up for dinner
Then went out to samba till dawn

When today was once tomorrow
When the future seemed so bright and clear
When life was packed full of adventure
How I wish that those days were still here

Linger until,all life has gone
the road that lies ahead
be it narrow,be it long

In vain I seek to find the truth
remorse and pain the only proof
my eyes will tell the tale
of how,I lived

Of what has been my past
although I need no comforting
an empty lie,the form is cast

What has been done,still scalds and burns
who knows, which way the path will turn
lesson given,lesson learned

The end it calls ,I will not hear
let go , of what you once held dear
release the hold
then rid the fear

Comes a winter shingle shaker
blow off the leaves, blow off the hats!
Bring a gust, an old limb breaker,
turn your breath to an ice maker,
send to rest the flitting bats.

Roar throughout the night and day,
build the whitecaps on the lakes
invite the winter here to stay
and usher autumn on its way.
Lift the tents up from their stakes.

Bring snow clouds in skies of blue,
put sleepy gophers in the ground,
freeze to frost the morning dew
bring the jack frost into view.
Send the last geese southward bound.

Vaginal Dawn