Where the Potent Flowers? 168

When potent flowers no longer seduce,
the cat has just one life,
Writer and the chopping block
head-to-head; defeat.
Magnified objects in frozen time
drops the jaw too slow,
words come a second too late,
awkward space ensue.

Crowds take talent to remain unseen,
mind and soul detached,
painter and his model–nude–
nothing else but paint,
one duty, one cause for attention,
emotions: distractions,
the trash lady and her uniform,
hand them to her.

Weight of the world is an understatement
add a century a dreams burnt,
Biblical stories of revival and rebirth,
remain grouped letters.
I rest my case deep in sleep
buried painfully,
that poor bird and its broken wing
doubtful hope in death.

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126

Eyes–
Void of any humanity
dark, forlorn,
Stiffened by rejections,
tangled locks of golden youth
weaved in and out
of hands of broken souls.

If only lit
one fire for the masses
What greatness we would have!
eyes glimmering with childhood fancies
Sweet and even sweeter dreams
cure a shattered tattered
blinded world

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Liberation 119

We’ve been liberated too much

Freedom never meant divine power
Let god or gods keep that
We’ve always wanted more

By more I mean not ambition
ambition was water to seeds.

Our fathers planted life
we feed upon their fruits

Misshapen roots ignored,
forgotten roots die,
Pretty little fruits thrive
but for how long?

how long?

we drink the blood of the dead
blood always gave life.
but it’ll dry like the rivers
used up and left to waste

because we’re free
to kill the heart of liberty

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When is Now (106)

When is now?

Tap the watch
it won’t go faster
Dreams are
denials
in the making.
Switch disposition–
still the same,
the edge gets closer,
will you jump
by the end?

Dead ambitions
are frozen dreams,
incarcerated bits
in little jars,
for all the ones
still standing tall,
fear to fail
frozen Hell.

Step out
grass needs mowing
birds need feeding
and the trees–
they need you breathing.
Will you heed
paralyzed by unmarked weight?
Die a tiny creature
loud insignificant babbles of
“ifs” and “buts”

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Hoard (101)

Restless fingers
scoop:
miles of marked soil ahead,
Have we wandered the same direction?
have we crossed paths again?
I see your footsteps–
those sneakers always lasted long,
never knew they’d be so deep,
I follow,
steady beats with rhythmic cause,
I reach–
your fruits were always ripe,
painted cherries,
ruby gold skins,
poison,
I never stood a chance       did I?
Parameters drawn
unaltered, stern
pallid walls,
I’ve never seen the inside
where supposed gold
sat upon your head.
What a view that would be:
how empty a miser grows.

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Obscure Passage (94)

I stepped out of a meeting feeling
like a wingless bird,
I left my wings by the door
and never saw them out.
boundaries turn to edges,
I tilt and pebbles scamper
down uncharted chute,
left speechless frozen soul.
Faced with unwanted recognition,
I peer behind me twice,
as if a shadow of my choices will
muddle my footsteps.
Unforgiving blindness yet
I refuse the light,
to crawl around in murky darkness,
surely a reward in place.
I ponder where my hands are,
barely are they there,
my feet behind already lost,
no heart is needed here.

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Down down the Drain (87)

I follow where the liquid falls
consumed by aching fire
bled dry I kneel before past eminence
how low the mighty falls–
I heed–
quiet resignation,
I slump on my throne.

And never once did they warn,
channels clogged and jammed together,
the misery of decreased appetite,
wretched servant of enterprise–
alas, the result–
backward steps,
did I expect too much from me?

I kiss where weeds have been pulled,
I flourished where you died,
but now the soil sinks into my flesh,
paint my future black,
oh, the hatred,
has me spitting,
the terror of starving pride

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Self Sustained (82)

Step back, I’ve heard it all,
irksome ramblings of long ago times,
backs bent under the heat
plowing sustenance for the posh.
Freeze! This is my land,
no one plows the taken promise,
it won’t grow otherwise.

I’ve lent my hand to you,      it never was returned
I work with one against the heavy air,
picking up your scattered dung,
Was ever a smell so revolting–
that called for quick surrender,
Go! I have no patience,
cowardice serves no purpose.

the fish fights the current,
for life, for future, for glory

I wrap myself in pungent desire,
Only to be desired by myself.

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Excuse the Underdogs (76)

I imagine by referendum,     you exclude us,
What are we, to be exact?
Must lack of experience correlate to lack of knowledge?
I beg to differ–
Time has never driven in reverse–
this is our world as well,
and if      nature stays its course,
Our dreams and fears should come before the old,
We are…..aren’t we……..the future      You?

Come, jump off your high horse,
what do you know of us?
I imagine your decisions are for the better cause,
How can you without our dreams?
And when finally we become you too,
we should know very well      too well,
Rulers never rule the right time,
Time moves, trends die, what was will fly away.

Pardon us sir,      have we snarled too much?
Excuse us underdogs,
We have no manners in this matter,
Lead on, protect the past
let the future wreck,
let us swallow your leftovers–

Children always did what they were told.

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Internal Rain (44)

Today’s rain
is gray,
tomorrow’s may be black,
Will I ever fade,
to a guiltless white?

Will I rain
past crusades,
forsake tomorrow’s promised quests?
Will time’s frigid hand
Ever set me free?

Small bubble
around a meager life,
Is the heart such a flimsy thing?
Must it always rain
Inside my pitless soul?

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