bygone miles

A Stone

2009-10-16T02:17:00.001-07:00

She thinks what she shouldn’t think
she says what she shouldn’t say
and when Athena’s curse beckons
a Medusa, the woman becomes.

How sweet is the forbidden fruit?
How deep is the most unkindest cut?
How blinding can be the mirror?
How far is too far for her?
Over there where glows no lantern
she walks, in defiance, beyond all return.

I’m no silhouette that intruded your sleep
or an apparition that rustled the leaves
Neither an incubus that strangles the meek
nor an omen that unleashes the evil streak.
I’m nothing, ‘cause I turned into a stone
lost in the labyrinth of tresses that hissed
not a woman
but it's a Medusa that I kissed.

You Didn't Know!

2009-10-16T00:12:00.000-07:00

You knew you believed
the letters and the words
they, indeed, piled up like Alps in the clouds.
The shelves of your study
the lanes of your memory.
You thought, on that day, the faith would rise up
like a Griffin out of the Ebony woods
but it’s just that you didn’t know
when the last of the dark winds blow
it’s all ashes and dust.

You knew you loved
that heart and that countenance
abounding in a castle raised in the rains
on a gloomy cape with a looming hope
dreaming by the ramparts
of flags of peace and blissful seas
and you thought tomorrow would dawn anyway
like the kingdom of high out of the frescoes in sky
but it’s just that you didn’t know
when the last of the dark winds blow
it’s all ashes and dust.

Inside Out

2009-10-15T01:31:00.000-07:00

Rising again to the shining skies
a smile within, but contempt outside
got an avalanche of words that won’t be spoken
and a houseful of feelings to carefully hide.
This tongue isn’t enough to unveil the heart
for words deceive our ways into a winless war
only these eyes open the doors of burning fire
but baby, we are so close yet so far.

We rush through these alleys in search of something
crossing all the miles with this rock on our head
we put up a face that speaks words in millions
but know not what it is until it’s dead.
Truth embraces these four walls of blinding darkness
for daylight reveals the painful and bleeding scar
hearts long for each other, but hands don’t reach
‘cause baby, we are so close yet so far.

We ‘re making this journey beyond the end of road
places we passed have turned desolate and cursed
can’t read these lines of the book of our life
for vain is everything that we saw and touched.
Put on new clothing, but this heart’s always the same
it’s time that moves on while we stay where we are.
The road we take to go is the road we need to return
but baby, we are so close yet so far.

My face is melting like a candle of shame
bones are burning in this tormenting flame
fences are circling the thoughts that stream
yet, blood in my veins is calling your name.
Voices and dances are filling shrill silence
lone red rose and I wait while fortunes spar
for it’s Valentine’s Day, if you still remember
but baby, we are so close yet so far.

Entity of Love

2009-10-15T00:53:00.000-07:00

The idea of love, so alluring
through - an hour and a half on screen
fictitious paperback leaves
lines of bard’s dreams
and top of the charts surging down the air streams.

The doors fling open
for that special someone to walk in.
The season of love, when it arrives
attesting indoctrinations, it connives.
Anxiety of suit and gown see nuptials through
leaving two lives under that one wretched roof.
Ego’s esteem shrinks space
contradictions bursting in face
moments dressed in incompatible fads
pound the whimsy mirage to rags.
Matinee idols turn zombies, best sellers - a preposterous trash
chartbusters fall mum under stark reality’s lash.
Domestic wrangles, court room tangles explicate
the futility, though late.

Revulsion wrenched heart limps back to work
and on a misty evening of wreck
when that whisper fondles the ear
that aromatic dinner in candle glare
lets the heart’s doors creak
to trudge once more through the bluff’s creek.

Not once down this tedious rove
could grasp this enigma riddled entity named love.

Traveler

2009-10-14T04:27:00.000-07:00

I’ve come a long way from home
over the mountains of wailing blood and bone.
I found my love in the distant fields of snow
and lost it in the summer of an avenging sun.
I’m a traveler and have been to many a land
and always held this good book in my hand
Sometimes, I ask myself,
“Why on earth am I here?”
maybe I got my own cross to bear.
I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help
or maybe I’ve been running from myself.

I’ve seen the naked skin on the ribcage of starvation
a hundred outstretched hands for one piece of bread
peeped into the eyes that got nowhere to look
walked through the rotting squalor of paper and mud
heard the voices of guile and whispers of deception
lying buried in sickness in the forsaken isles of flood.
Sometimes, I ask myself,
“Why on earth am I here?”
maybe I got my own cross to bear.
I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help
or maybe I’ve been running from myself.

Tonight, I’m alone on the streets of this strange town
ain’t got no friend to meet, and no place where I belong
the whistles of police cars, the rumbles of subway trains
and the chuckles of passing girls are the only familiar things.
My back’s to the wall and I blow air into the cups of my hands
it’s cold, baby, maybe you look to hide me in your wings.
I don’t know where I’m heading, but I know where I’m from
girl, I’m beat and wanna last till I go home
I don’t ask for a fire
and there’s nothing that I desire
this one night, let me stay in a corner of your eye
at daybreak, I go trek a myriad miles and yet find my home too far away.
Baby, sometimes, I ask myself,
“Why on earth am I here?”
maybe I got my own cross to bear.
I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help
or maybe I’ve been running from myself.

Natural Man

2009-10-14T02:09:00.000-07:00

If purple graces a butterfly’s wings
yellow embraces the other
unique nectar and fragrance
manifest in each blooming flower
some set apart by stipples
some stand out in color.
Every sparrow chirps in its distinct fashion
varying flecks on each Kingfisher’s bosom.
Every creeping python
crawling lizard, humming bee,
aquatic beauties swimming the sea
each kind is different from its own
that’s the splendor of life
of being alive under the sky of rainbow and sun.

So was man
before books bent his back with a hunch
and his tender feet were enchained
to classroom’s bench.

Reading unending rows of alphabet
fonts of print on paper
bellowed out repetitions
that taught the same charter
- think alike, know alike and be alike.

I was barked at with canes
whipped on the buttocks
knelt on the burning ground of pains
sat on thin air with my back to the wall
and shamed for being different from all.
The word is “discipline,” but they instilled fear
claiming to groom, they robbed every year
manufacturing puppets faceless and formless
a machination for machine tools
of a dumb army of robots.

My soul was arrested
mind was cremated
and heart was broken, I didn’t know.
Like a flying bird,
a sheep in the grazing herd,
a swaying lily in the valley,
and a Herring in shoals of merry
I discovered not myself.
I know histories of distant lands and mysteries of cosmos
mathematics on both hands and lingua franca of hosts
have a computer on palm
but know not who I am!

New Czar

2009-10-12T03:13:00.000-07:00

A new tycoon ascended the tabloid pit
confiscated accolades profusely writ
he unlocked his product, a disguised beast
invented new needs for the susceptible meek
patrons of impositions, his slaves to be
entangled in a jumble closely knit.

Caged universal tongue is unshackled
resurrecting the dead tower of Babel
Then, confounded tongues freed many
on the unfound common ground under a diverse canopy.
Now, sow old seeds again till farthest reach
owners of one market can easily reap.

Dollars and Euro
at hand for borrow
faces, races, human spaces
lined up in sky scrapper’s shadow.
All rise to the new empire
east city, west city and ethnicity no bar
welcome benevolent multi-national Czar
with affluent glitzy palaces of power
ride on the impoverished third world horse
by the closed shop of the universal slave
dragging his stinky hearse.

The Giant

2009-10-12T02:05:00.000-07:00

Never trust an old friend
said my old man strolling these cordial shores of golden palms
my tender feet followed him
adoring the vacillating colors of sky kissing the boisterous sea
this is where thunderous peace is.

Sea is a work place
an unfathomable treasure trove our boats feed on
the village is its child
raised in the cradle of sands, rocked by the southern winds

The sea was also an old friend
a vengeful friend is worse than a furious foe
my old man would say
you won’t see him come and go

Carols are ringing at the crack of dawn
festive embellishments are swaying in cold winter breeze
seabirds are vying for the virgin sky in haste
and the sea leapt with outstretched extremities
devouring its own child.
On that day, the friend became an enemy
the giant called tsunami
took away with him everything the sea has given me.

Bus to Tel Aviv

2009-10-12T01:22:00.000-07:00

Hey brother, this bus takes us home
all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone

This breeze’s stroking my face much like her tresses
she was my classmate and now my daughter’s mother
I didn’t look into her eyes when I said so long and God bless
but I promised a better home that no storms could wither.
And for them, it’s all gonna change forever tonight
I’m going back home after a long wait
I have bags full of caring heart
taking ’em home never to depart.
Hey, young man in the next seat
Do you have a mother or sister
waiting for you to greet?
Well, this bus takes us home
all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.

You have that look on your face
maybe your heart’s pounding hard
your shirt is wet with sweat
something’s beneath, you’re trying to guard!
This journey goes on, if we desire
or together we walk the lake of fire.
Back at home, they’ll hold us
breathing in their arms or eaten by locust.
Yes, this bus takes us home
all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.

You chose to be here
I’m here by sheer chance
together we’re destined to journey
across this promised expanse.
We passed through these gates
and shared these empty seats
as darkness surrounds, we look at each other
this ticket in our hands
can end it here or move us further
as this bus takes us home
all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.

On my way to Tel Aviv
in tomorrow I still believe
someday, this world we’d leave
meanwhile, there are dreams to weave.
As sun goes down on this Friday
home awaits us in candle’s ray
there is peace and rest on the other side
in each others' blood we do abide
and take this ride into the even tide.
Hey brother, this bus takes us home
all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.

Notes of a Kibbutznik

2009-10-10T03:29:00.001-07:00

It’s been many years, it hardly rained

through thorns and thistles I still plow.

These barren sands I grip in my fists

to make way, in this desert, for a stream to flow.

Cobra and the scorpion search for my heel

and death is splattered all over these fields.

At times, it’s hurled across the fence

as a ghost of midnight’s timid wields.

I retreat not, for this mud’s soaked in my blood

whose malarial swamps my folks once tread.

From the heart of this marsh lilies bloomed again

this is the forgotten home - at last remembered.

Out of empty spaces this moment has risen

upon the ancestral ashes this seed was sown.

Herds of lives had emanated in smoke

their silenced violins and whispers woke up my brawn

new rail roads were laid to send them to death

closed were all roads that bring us to breath.

No light has ever really shone

through my darkest hour I’ll go it all alone

from the valley of death I shall arrive

I shall always win, for I shall survive

I’ve seen broken glass scattered all over

waking to a morning drenched in war

walking lives taken to an abrupt grave

after pieces of flesh were flung afar.

I heard songs of mirth halfway throttled

shrinking ecstatic dances to abysmal sorrow

culmination of feasts in breathless mourning

by mouthfuls of vengeance’s venomous vow.

I bid farewell to them that never returned

walked this graveyard till my soul’s all tired

I’ve seen fathers’ shoulders carrying the sons

and newly wed adolescence burying the bride.

I leapt over the shreds of dead

while flames swept by my side

crept across the rumbling rubble

scampering towards nowhere, to hide.

I’ve seen fire raging in the bright blue sky

and majestic heights tumbling to the ground

voices vanish again in thin columns of smoke

reopening the scars of an age old wound.

But on I go -

reaping the harvest of citrus and dates

till my very last, I’ll be here guarding these gates.

Through the thawing time, had no faithful friends

no good neighbor’s willful helping hands

yes, I open up my chest to the swirling winds of scorn

and hold high the beacon for the future to be born.

Goodbye Home

2009-10-10T01:42:00.001-07:00

The unsuspecting sun rose, as usual, in the mute skies
for one last journey over a ground prepared to be betrayed
faithful orchards grown to be forsaken
brick walls of mannequin lives built for desolation.

Dry and dead blood is crying from deep sludge
shadows from the past standby and watch
for the blithely hops of the blissful kids
roars of engines rolling languid time’s wheels
congregation’s ardent recitations and toasts of wine
here - will not be heard again.

The obdurate synagogue door has fallen
human hands knit with veins hold on to the dying bond
like worms curling together, defying the whirling storm.
Rows of eyes stare in and swim the piercing odious waters
gushing in to flush out the remains of forgotten warriors.
Yet, slippery orange hands wave the fluttering wet blue star
on a crumbling roof of rumbling dreams.

Sun is being evicted from his sky.

The inevitable feet of the takers arrive.

One last blast of Shofar and a tearful shalom
soon, I'll be far away from home - Kfar Darom.

Rain

2007-03-07T22:05:00.000-08:00

Those years made me a destitute child
I swam across the swamps and ran through the wild
the grass, everywhere I slept, went dry and dead
fields in the vicinity yielded no bread

Thirst in my throat squeezed up my guts
my back was scarred and feet had cuts
I looked to the heavens and prayed for the rain
while my spirit yearned for you in tenacious pain

It gets so lonely here
the moonlight and roses
violins and candles
are nothing but gone
Yet, memories of you
do linger on.

I woke up when it began to happen....

a distant thunder lit up the desert of desolation
the stench of mud filled the bowels of isolation
Here it is.....
now, the flowers will bloom back
and the birds will return to their rack.
Seasons, that are gone, will be again made
the tears of tribulation will soon fade
Here it is.....far away in exile,
I was waiting for the rain all my life
but when it came,
you were not there.

across yesterday

2007-03-06T22:02:00.000-08:00

Through my days of angst
I hear you speak
at times as a pleasant whisper
or as a still voice from deep
you talk of inscrutable grasslands
and misty rain from cloud nine
they lug me up the stairs of hell
and get me going again.
Your smile is my hideaway
to it I retreat
undulating in times olden
I stay.

Taj Mahal stands bright on the table
watch on my wrist is beating
anthology of shirts in my wardrobe
quietly wait
all tokens of adulation you sent my way.
Each night, across the cavernous darkness
I elongate my hand to retrieve you
all it can clasp are letters from a lost kingdom
and pictures in the photo album.

After years, yesterday, against the rising sun
you stood a few yards from me
by the door of your stately mansion
like a fairy adorned in celestial apparel.
Behind the rolled up car window
that crossed a thousand miles
I concealed myself from you
your hubby drove to office
and you are a mother of two.

wedding morning walk

2007-03-06T21:55:00.000-08:00

Daffodils brushing the windowpane are moist
sun’s lethargic at work
a gentle nibble at the outstaying mountain mist.
Dahlias by the rock unwrap a reluctant yawn
awakened by petulant honks afar
still, abode’s shadows refuse to seep over the trimmed lawn.
Fleet shoe taps pour down on the corridor
giggles of cousins out of the festooned car door.
Spruced up church in the valley, tick-tock on wall and cuckoo call
hasten my shower and all.
Then descends your perfumed fragrance
I know where you are
I slip into my room, there you are.
A smile, a laugh, a focused look,
mellowed expression and a cock-a-snook
- unnerved nor overawed by time.

We dreamed of marital bliss, planned a perfect means
here you are in my arms behind closed screens.
My fingers play on your face, my eyes pierce yours
mumbling words imprecise;
yet, you prefer not to speak, ignoring my intense peek.
My breath is hard on your tresses
untouchable they are, so it passes
and a knock on the door invades privacy
you bother not to see.
My fingers let go the dark cardboard flap.
It falls on you, fettering my craving view.
I slide your memories filled drawer in and stand up
for a walk down the smoggy green strips.
Hereafter, I bid you farewell each time
I kiss those strange consort’s lips.

metal serpent

2007-03-06T21:47:00.000-08:00

From a distance like a worm
as if out of eternity
it crawls along the infinite ladder fallen to the ground
swells slowly into a gargantuan metal serpent
growling and snorting fumes it arrives
loud speakers declare its presence
I stare at her - she walks away
raucous voices around me go muffled
and I stand in a crowd of shadows
she sits in its belly, iron bars cross my vision
it’s her cage and my prison
on spheres of tides unseen.
It growls and snorts again
wheels beneath its belly roll with an ugly din of tearing away
metal serpent swerves and becomes a worm
I stand alone among the shadows on the callous platform
and it vanishes into eternity......
I long to crush its head
but it always took her away
and bruised my heel.

she's back in town

2007-03-05T21:50:00.000-08:00

On foot down the blustery savanna
grubby farmer said he saw her.
Long indolent time lapsed since
she left my world for a higher clamber.
Holding close under the umbrella as hale stones hurled in
or roving the raft home in concert across the midnight rain,
at shooting stars making a wish or turning the backs in anguish
this heart’s choked with her memories, my guests at every dine.
Sprinting down the verdant knoll
“I saw her,” wheezed out the twelve-year-old,
“she’s moseying along the old castle’s corridor.”
Though she’s back in town, I was eschewed.

Dead moon deserted the murky sky
wolves howl out misty smokes with the resonance of a dirge
in blood congealing chill, led by torch’s slender shaft
groping through eerie castle halls, for her I search.
With lungs filled with the stench of yore, I stayed put
prelude to the day dawned, but she eluded.
Obscured skies were quietly dripping pity
and yowls of the castle hounded me as I turned and walked.
I’m dressed up in my best suit.... I crave to ask her why ?
Only one such place to air my query
I rested the rose on gravestone as its letters blurred in my eyes
I whispered to her breaking the calm of cemetery
"Sorry about forgetting your death anniversary."

Dinner

2007-03-05T21:44:00.000-08:00

Hiss of night’s riding the wings of concealed wind
sailing over the frosty cliffs unknown to the eagles' eyes
sprinkling white flakes it gobbled at the distant snowy rind
into the mane of weeping trees, with a snoopy heart that pries

I’m all dressed in black and my Tuxedo’s flawless
moods are in excess and boots are getting restless

The sky is studded with flickering patrician gems
purple cloud is wavering like an impish glossy veil
moonlight’s spilt on whispering woods by heaven’s realms
moorlands are basking in mountain breeze’s blessed sail

dishes you love are served
our table is well reserved

Olive leaves are wringing in luminous slender blue
floral pristine aroma’s emanating from every nook
serene green valley is coaxing the glum spirits that rue
with cornfield’s golden glitter and a sparkling silver brook

violins are playing and candles were lit
jasmines and champagne are all well set

Evening haze’s descending on the verdant mounds
ambiance is dappled with clusters of quails that fill
quixotic tinge is floating beyond the lyrical bounds
precious moments are flying like a fidgety seagull quill

all things are in place
but for your splendid grace

The music’s withering away
I’m alone and can dance no way
it’s an opulent table, but is turning cold
tantalizing night is fast growing old
menu’s losing its flair
curtains are donning a vacant stare
and I’m still sitting in my chair
wishing for the scent of your hair.

Galloping clock is haughty
but your chair is still empty
as I keep on waiting..............
........to dine with you tonight.

a memory

2007-03-01T22:15:00.000-08:00

Pink prim rose mottled with shimmering jewels of water
is on the dashboard, longing to be passed on to her hands.
Ring carved out of heart and born to dazzle her finger is waiting on me.
Nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave
surprised and thrilled she would be, when I say those words on one knee.
And I rehearse them a zillion times as Springsteen sings to none but the brave.

Full faced moon’s looking into my eyes as giggles of stars surround
trees rush past me like caged beasts blowing their tresses along
envious roaring wind hits and falls, jeering my boorish wheels’ rage
I squeeze the rear view mirror again and reassure my suave image.

Iridescent campus lights greet me like castaways out of darkness
my anxious car races at her hostel, down the deserted lanes.
Then I pull the brakes and spin it amid whines of pain of rubber
I drive back into town, to my cold and stony cave.
Behind the shrubbery, I saw her shadow blend in night with another
nothing’s like the unexpected, it becomes a memory taken to the grave.

Parched Streams

2007-03-01T22:03:00.000-08:00

With her I ride into spheres timeless and spaces nameless
unwrapping the blindfolded fruit forbidden in Eden.
Burdened with the emptiness of a lie too loud to confess
this page would be torn sooner than it is written.

Clothes woven of arrogant pride are shed in thirst
nakedness shines draped in innocent-but-true skin.
Breath filled bubbles of lust float and burst
sap of wily lips bind fragility with an Iscariot’s grin.

Now, she has to return to him and I to my dreams.
For a moment, I turn back to stop her forever
when her culpable eyes hark back hopes vanquished by the parched streams.
We slide away from each other into the living time, and disappear.

To the Girl that Never was

2007-03-01T21:55:00.000-08:00

I’m a small town boy
from the streets of debris
without you, it was too empty

I took a train to the big city
walked around
with shoes soaked in my town’s mud
and sad country songs of the old and dead.
Here, I’ve seen them all
come and go
they were none
just specks in the flow.
Wherever I went in this big city
without you, it’s nothing but empty.

Crossed the continents and seven seas
to the land of plenty.
Those who couldn’t make it
never came
those who could, never remained.
It’s the same old sun on the tattered horizon
and without you,
today is as empty as yesterday‘s dawn.

I closed my eyes and drifted away
a caterpillar, from one hole to the other
I woke up and saw butterflies
repugnant souls transmuted into beauty
I loafed around in gardens of glory
dawdled by the streams of silky sheen
but no one was ever seen
though I heard them yell
for they just went to hell.
My town’s mud is still kissing my shoes
six-string sounds and sad songs sweat through my pores
I think of my small town
and its streets of debris
though I came to paradise
for without you, this too is empty.

Call of Duty

2007-02-28T22:42:00.000-08:00

As a five-year-old, I peed in my pants
when my Pa from behind kicked my butt with his boots.
Slaps on my brother’s cheeks were wakeup calls of morn
for his mathematics were wrong.
Nightmares of midnight - the shrieks of my mother
battered for she questioned his immoral adulterous fervor
she cried out my name and called me
for she hoped that I might save her
from the hands of this pain giver
but I did not.....
withdrawn to my corner, I saved my skin from wrath so hot
with a coward’s sweating heart.
Three slave souls imprisoned by life
fed on cuss and curse.
Alas, he sent my brother away
after he got rid of my mother
every night, he’d turn my head the other way
sleeping by my side with a new woman in bed.
And I ran.

I grew up with wounds on my heart
and the bleeding never stopped.
Every night, in darkness, I wake up
and hear her cry
she calls my name again and again
this time they are mere echoes of a bygone pain.

Now I’m strong
an adult.
But time moved on
situations vanished and gone.
Yet, her cry rages in me
strident and deafening.

I discovered where he lives,
uptown by the lakeside.
With a hand gun under my jacket, I drove.
He opened the door, baffled at my sight.
His hair’s white
above folded forehead and eye bags
wrinkled cheeks and sagging chin
bent back and staggered walking.
Gone is his brawn empowered vigor
at my mercy is this old and fading figure.
Heaving sighs, he got dumped in sofa
breathless, I sat facing him
with strange nagging nausea.
Lips on his naked gums are quaking.
I looked into his eyes as he looked in mine,
my hand crept under my jacket
and I held the cigar at him.
His hand shook receiving it.
I ran out to my car
can’t say why I’m hearing my heart beat
loud and clear.
I drove back into the night
without an answer to the cries that await.

Me

2007-02-28T22:33:00.000-08:00

As a boy,
when besieged by sorrow
I lost myself in reveries of my soon-to-be youth
- with immaculate daybreaks
tender ray’s caress
dew speckled green leaves
chortles of vivid hued blossoms
by the melodious lissome rivulet
treading the copious meadows
a snug chalet
in still dell’s midst
I laze in her arms on hearth-rug
through the winter mist.

And when I got there
they were never there!

As a man,
through toil and woe
at times as mistletoe
a fragile glass fragment
beneath her high-heel shoe
I see my twilight times
- wafting in placid breeze
sunrise in Swallows’ twitters
butterflies splashed shrubbery
mellowed hazy church spire
as I walk by Cinchona array;
yapping merry old cronies
with fishing rods on waterside.
Hanging vistas of bygone miles
the mementoes on tenacious walls
and sunset on numinous isles
calling flocks of fluttering sails.
By the tepid ingle-nook
in sturdy stoic spirit
I sip vivacious wine
a lonely wight
through the winter rain.

But I dread getting there
for the fear of not finding them there.
Thenceforth, no times remain to dream
no sequel left to be seen

living relentless rude nightmare.

In the Avenue at Six

2007-02-28T22:10:00.000-08:00

She is desirable.
I’ve been watching her since school.
Every man’s paradise
a salivating merchandise.
She burgeoned with time
now a buxom dame
who flaunts her youth if in red today
in purple the next day.

She stands on the avenue’s side walk
when the clock strikes six
they pull the cars over with sudden brakes
away she goes into a Bimmer’s back seat
and smiles at me as it zooms down the street.
Sometime in the morn,
he drives her back home
I see the contented look on his face
they all were, who were christened in her embrace.

Every night, I return home
........without her
but tonight, got more dough to be her beau.
There she is, in heavenly blue
silky hair like a water fall
lipstick’s glitter sending a call
her perfume or body odor
fueling my mind’s frantic fervor.
She looks at me with ever seducing eyes
unwrapping a smile out of social disguise
I rush up to her with a hand on my wallet
nerves giving in, for it’s been a long wait
and a Cadillac comes to a screeching halt
only to race away with her,
kicking dirt on my shirt.

I got hands in my pockets
I’m walking back home
......without her
her name is glee
and she is a bitch who wouldn’t sleep with me.

Eyelids

2007-02-20T23:28:00.000-08:00

Ostentatious dark heavens sparkle trinkets above my mortal habitat
ephemeral full moon bequeath her grace to the worn out roof’s heart
I glance through ageing casement at the silent fleeting juncture
eyelids shut the scenic moment slithering along the lanes of rapture.
Grand ma shook my shoulder and walked unshackled by wheelchair
Pa trounced his abhorrent esteem, was lighting candles with care
serving the roasted turkey was mom who regained her lost years
my brother is again effervescent with fortune’s bows and spears.
Perplexed at mirror’s revelation of restored corporeal assets
I heard olden amiable voices ascend the depths of interred hamlets
voices grew strident, they were cheers of returning long gone chums
they blathered and gibbered like always filling my home with hums
I shook their hands, cracked champagne amid balloons and jig
sniggering kids were unwrapping the gifts swaying through shindig
still sunk in ecstasy and my eyelids disclose my eyes
uncouthly sunrays peep through casement and pour on the tiles
stepping out of somber bed, I walk my dim morose abode
forlorn but dumb walls greet me, cataclysmic newspaper awaits my nod
silence whines at me while the whimpering time is reluctant to move

I stare at the protracted narrow day, tying my battered shoe.

Come and Gone

2007-02-12T00:03:00.000-08:00

Marigold treasures in the meadows enlivened by dawn’s affable pat
tranquil green quills by the night quiver the parrot out of her squat.
Loping across the quaint borough, clambering the lofty boughs
when boyhood wanes like a whisper, lost in its yen for youth’s swift toes.
Bask in summer’s warm cuddle, sail on ornate dale’s springtides
saunter through golden autumn showers, adore the glacial snow rides.
And one dusk alters the reflection in the mirror, visage seized away
resist the twirling winds of sunset, but titivations fade with the day.
Marigold and the meadows decay, parrot wings flap beyond all return.
Gape at unabated vicissitudes in solitude as clouds muster on a plummeting sun.
The day, a blessed memory; the visage, a token of the cherished past
to recollect through the redolent night, for bygones are forever lost.

Winds of Change

2007-02-11T23:33:00.000-08:00

I’m still here
yesteryears are gone
I still see
not dreams
but only those my dwindling eye can behold
I still hear
the birds and the flowing waters
they are mere sounds
not quite the melodies they once were
I still walk these paths
and no longer wonder what lies beyond
for I now know they end where they began
I still ask myself
not How?
but Why ?
I’m the same man
though the one in the mirror is not
my old wristwatch is the same as ever
but it’s the times that have changed.
I look at those mountains,
those woods,
and those cornfields;
I knew them all my life
they’ll be there tomorrow
but I’ll have to go.