On the Milky Way a black cloud appeared,
not dark as the night, but as a whole year
of winter nights put together and blended
with stygian thoughts of a suicidal dictator.
Then slowly the cloud began to dissipate,
became whispery as Fidel Castro´s beard.
…And there, on blue silk, a new born star,
unexciting at first but it grew stronger by
the galaxy minute- which last a bit longer
than on earth-, till it one day sparkled with
pride especially around Christmas.
The moment a new star is born an old star
lights up, like northern light, for so to fall
into perpetuity, and I shall not see my old
friend Clive Dunn again.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2012
WRAPPING IT IN PURPLE
Black onyx handsome,
Small is beautiful,
Soft campy creature,
Definite in feature,
All chiseled, boned,
And used for a king's ransom.
A royal purple mist,
Rained down on fans.
A thousand in the cast,
(He's never going to last).
Sing, Hip hop, do yer dance,
It's really yer last chance;
And maybe you'll be missed.
Let's do! Let's go crazy!
Count sheep, fall asleep,
Red flag, Swag dance, Sweet feet!
Tap it, Rap it, on a side street.
Keepers, weepers, of the dark,
One chance to make yer mark.
Sigh or sing, no time to be lazy!
Speed of light, day or night,
You know time can't be defined.
Check it off, count loves,
Hope you hear the cry of doves.
Yer wanting all yer extra time,
Kiss it in yer billboard climb;
A nanosecond dove in flight.
Burning up your axe,
Ending up an icon,
Pay your ticket, seeum,
In Hollywood's museum.
Paisley is the handle,
Stiff, dripping like a candle,
Just a manikin in wax.
No birthday's, no gray, or wrinkle.
In purple paper, wrap a lost chord!
You float above a cherry moon,
Wing it, sing it, it's your last tune.
Spirit vaporized, name that's canonized,
And all your data to be analyzed.
Precious purple, a periwinkle sprinkle.
Always cry for love, never cry for pain;
Elevé, do rise, caught up, surprised!
Don't stare sleeping there,
Death upon the stair.
No liquor, no last flicker,
No barcode, no heart quicker,
An April snow has left you sleeping in the rain.
By Edlynn Nau
© April 23, 2016
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2016
They said a funny Latin word,
they said that you were dead,
yet merrily you wagged your tail
when I took you to the vet.
You were not kind to chickens,
as well the neighbors know,
or come to that, to ducks and geese,
and yet I loved you so.
Oh, to recall the bygone days
we roamed and roved together,
sometimes when snow lay all about,
sometimes o'er hills of heather.
Our walkies to the liquor store,
our excursions to the bar,
and all those times you led me home
when I couldn't use the car.
At night, I swear, an angel
looms in the purple sky,
and on a gently twinkling leash
you, Lady, lead on high.
Copyright © Julian Scutts | Year Posted 2017