Daily Archives: April 8, 2017

PITTED MUREX

if i am to be vacant of companionship and communion with you

then all has been my own dream.  

i have dreamed of a field

spread-loved by graceful golden wheat and you, the wind

which caressed a life-war torn spirit; trembling hands.

my own as-had as dreams as worn as ancient book bindings

~ lost within the smolders of everywhere.

was youth easy when anchors were drawn upon the bow

and all waves were frolicked star crests upon our arms?

picking up the discarded shells of the battle front-life

a patch of beach-white untouched by strife;  i picked up

a pitted murex and placed it next to my heart.

:: 04-08-2017 ::

AND IF NOT FOR

 and if not for
 the melancholy pebbles lining our narrow
 path
 and if not for
 the bruised-throated mourning birds'
 sorrow
 how else if not through faith
 how else if not through love
 that all shadows can stand
 that all light within be strength
 and if not for
 God
 an impossibility
 and if not for
 Love
 an impossibility!

:: 04-08-2017 ::

HE PULLED HIS FORTY-FOUR

Tiny Tim with droopy eye went out
with corpse-woman (she’d heard
he’d died)
Had a cigarette between two finger’d
bones called life and when living
ladies heard he’d died the world
began its wailing from the other side.
LAPD roped off the scene but the
ribbons were too low for ghosts and
all his demons.  Detective Mister
found his bloody revolver and no cell
block too secured assured for dead
men so police offricer said, “Tiny Tim
was too beautiful but he died today;
the judge had verdict match the
coroner;  misadventure in love case
closed casket so move along move
along my fiends.

:: 03212016 ::