Silence is uncorked…

Man we almost had it once, power I mean,
strong union men, owners heard our voices.
Sixties or seventies didn’t it almost seem,
we had a great chance a lot more choices.

This is indeed a statement political,
see I’m an angry man getting much angrier.
Forgive me, what you’ll hear isn’t analytical,
my intent, to get through your comfort barrier.

Feeding her baby
she kisses her good night
thanking the Lord for his blessings
then watches the Moon
from her cold bed
longing for the kisses of her Love

Somewhere in those stars
her knight lies prone
shorn of their love in its bud
bathing her in warmth
with his cascading light
playing on her probing fingers

She dreams of her knight
singing lullabies
stroking their baby to sleep
waking up in joy
to see her toothsie smile
teething on his medal like rings

The sun lights the darkness,
The rain cleanses the earth,
As we too make the journey,
With death there is birth.
Bitter sweet memories,
Unfinished dreams,
Incomplete promises,
Life just seems cruel and mean.
It does not matter their age,
It is hard to let go,
Knowing as you hold their hand,
No longer does energy flow.
But somewhere out there they have a purpose,
In that we must trust,
They were needed elsewhere,
Not condemned to just dust.
Maybe a new angel,
Was needed in the sky,

i'd heard
it spoken
how he
hated stars
and frivolous
things

and lazy
sundays
old dogs
with
older men
who sat
in parks
smoking
talking with
young children,
imparted wisdom

he never
in his existence
conversed
with god,
with strangers,
with her

they said
if you met
he'd inspire you
and you would
cut out stars,
drag down
the moon
and live
in the suns shadow

there are times i wish
you weren't so literal.
when you didn't
become the coroner,
the forensic doctor
and slice into your flesh
and dig around for it

for the words, the poems,
the entrails of phrases
and make them seem
such a hopeless lot.
the type you would
sign off deaths,
with a definitive
'yeah this one
was never saveable'

in for reparation

With love to Magic Mona.
26th March 2011.

DADDY

Daddy are you there
I crave your smile,
for you have followed me
for many a mile,
and I fear for you.

Will you make that step
into the forever darkness
we expect,
I don't feel you'll end up in the dark,
instead,

your head held high you'll reach into the blue
blue sky,
and there become a star for me,
the one that leads me to your side
one day.

awash
crescent held stall
another faucet bead
before the fall

the damp sink basin
the echo mouth
waiting

this gleam like oil
on old tile
on old flooring

the television whispers
its chorus
and the pen shines
its barrel smooth
no words

and the telephone
says nothing

I've noticed that there are quite a few
of these types of things....everywhere,
and from what I've seen, this much is true
they're not serious enough, that I should, care;

Of course, I'd never just, "up, and say"
that every day's a walk in the park,
but....assumptions, and expectations, on each day
can litterally turn a reality....."stark"!

Love and Lust On The Face Of a Man

Love is the look on a Fathers face
When he is seeing his first child
Wrapped in a swaddling blanket
In the loving arms of an caring nurse

Love is the look on a Mothers face
When she hears her child’s first cries
Still attached to her umbilical cord pink and wrinkly
In the gentle hands of a kind doctor

Lust is the look on the face of a man
That sees his neighbor’s wife sun bathing
In the front yard of their country home
On a hot spring day at noontime