Email Poem

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Poem


When love has been forsaken, gone awry
you would be wise and clever not to try
opening your eyes in fear that you may see
Pablo's painted sun as though a volcanic cyclops
Vermillion lava flowing in serpentine rivers of tears
Your own, sure to spill, voice screaming aloud
throat burning with doused impassioned flames
     — but no one hears you

In pitch of night, keep your eyes closed tight
or you will be caught up with nerves tightly fraught
in deep throes of fright to witness a Picasso moon
Strewn upon its delph surface lies a lopsided grin
Your eyes will blink out of sync and make you think 
you've had too much from the worm's bottle to drink
     — but no one sees you

Keep your eyes shut for it will make you ill to see
abstract eyes staring back at you, without inhibitions
Each one created with brash and boldly brushed paint
Hues chosen by the master, not on a starry starry night
No, it is not the human artist of whom I now write, 
anyone who has been slapped by the cruel hand of Fate
      — but no one cares about you

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