Sensing the mass of human boundaries
so overwhelming and disheartening,
love dissolves the choking ghost of fear.
Hidden talents hit the surfaces
breaking down walls that should never exist
A woven purse of shot silk threads
covered in a glitter like hundreds-and-thousands,
a dust from semi-precious stones
so the purse is abrasive to touch
inside a black leather handbag…
White trumpets of flowers lean
from the bindweed that plaits
a fence of chicken wire
behind which three plastic buckets,
blue, pink and yellow, lie
beside an armchair left out
so long its legs are wormholed,
its green upholstery rotted,
and a table whose top has warped
leaving a concavity
where rain has laid a mirror
so clear I could gaze into it
and forget my origins.
I haven’t seen you in a while, my friend.
But I still remember the time we’ve spent together;
Pictures of you are still vivid in my memory –
A part of my soul will always be there with you
Whose words are these I know I’ve heard?
To read his marker seems absurd,
He will not see me stopping by
Nor holding back the need to cry.
Acting as if I’m without integrity
My mimicry knows no limitation
Inspired by individuals too pretty
The inspiration becomes imitation.
What’s the use of a luxurious car
If it can’t fit a traveller travelling far?
Can you drive all alone with jubilant pride,
Having refused a soul a pleasant ride?
After pies there was a visit to the garden
to see the toad, huge, motionless and sullen,
but not from a diet of sausage pie.
An endless eternity of stars
Blanketed the lofty canopy celestial
Far into unseen mystery
Where swirling lights
A’simmer in a sea of indigo
Washed across the cosmos entire
And vanished into an infinity of glistering dust
There’s not much to put the eye at ease
when we pass the abandoned garden;
tangles of string, planks and chicken wire,
a smother of snowdrops in late spring,
a quince tree with lichen, yellow fruit
rotting to brown then a winter black.
Is there a forgotten expression
in the language for which the bleak phrase
‘abandoned garden’ is not enough?
They’ll build a gas station in its place.
I’ll sit with you a while my dear
As I often do
Look across the water clear
Turbulent serenity, blue
I’ll sip a morning coffee with you
Watch the passers by
I’ll hold your time written hands
And watch the flocking birds fly
The sky will house us, I say with no doubt;
Of course, the Earth will take care of our feet.
But would that we dwelt within not but out
so we may make these planets our strong fleet.
How can those days wondrous be forgotten,
days when you on me poured your affection?
Didn’t you treat me as if I were your son?
Do you know what the word ‘mean’ means?
Oops! I sure am not being mean;
Also, I’m ware you’ve many means
to approach the college dean.
I’m happy you’re very mean!
Like a jewel thou shineth, dark thou sendeth home.
Planets eight thou holdeth, showing thy might;
Were you absent, would exist a stone?
I can’t believe December’s here;
This year’s been like a bad dream.
From Covid to typhoons to floods,
things have gotten too extreme.
Angered, Belittled, Chagrined, Depressed
By Christina’s Demanding Eyes,
Charlie Did Everything Flagrantly:
Dancing, Eating, Fighting Guys.
Eyeing Friends Gamble Houses
For Ghastly Hemp, Ice,
‘God!’ He Iterated ‘ Justified?’
Coordinates require input, chance comes accidentally,
Rendezvous a meeting point, you do saunter aimlessly.
Vector an interception course, we cross paths randomly
Anticipation is foresight, I never imagined such beauty.