I find him so smiley, so holly-jolly
I think I’ll vote for Zohran Mamdani
A NYC politician from Somali
like AOC ~ a red-hot tamale
plans incised on plain paper
careful calligraphy of a plane
sailing high above the clouds
shrouded in anticipation
veiled in smudges and tears
slowly running out of ink
resolute fears fuel the fire
earthquakes resurface nebulous horizons
and I have not the foggiest idea
uncertainty shapes a landscape
full of thunder and lightening
a sinkhole for rainbows
handing over completely
to what to whom to when
a seeming distraction
at the foot of the rainbow
gold mingles with cold
and heaven freezes over
Ironic we live in a time when partial people
Feel the need to cut off parts
To be more whole
These parts can range
From friends and family, home and culture
To their own distinctive body
But the effect is the same
Individuals made even less
In their effort to be something more
(1/2/25)
The porch-potted have attenuated
into stick insects.
Geraniums are hallowed be dark moons,
Fragility turns to desiccation.
The red tin watering can
is iced over by a fallen sun.
Of a sudden, a yawning dawn
freezes, is pinned
to a fixed grimace.
Unlock the front door,
push a grudging frosted screen.
Slipper bound toes shrink back,
blood drops through ice holes
in arterial walls.
Tropical fruits uneaten,
beds unmade and cooling,
cat hiding under a throw rug,
just its tail flicking a weather warning.
Slap and lock the door,
ignore the creaking porch
as it were a gutted grave.
Upon a kitchen wall
eyes trace a diminishing light,
a trace that once was a warming ray,
now has congealed into a fingerbone
of yesterday.
Glass is such a clear material
keep it clean for you to see
nothing can be hidden from it
especially when you're up a tree
Take a look in that mirror
it makes no mistake about you
shows every wrinkle and your age
this you are for its all true
Every morning that mirror looks
right into your face, never can hide
it has such a real cutting edge
tearing away every ounce of pride
Is that what a mirror can do?
think how close God can look
nothing is hidden from His gaze
for His eyes penetrate so intently too
God has a mirror of you
where He sees every little thing
every word, thought, even a crack
nothing hidden from king of kings
Don't panic when things turn topsy turvy
Don't freeze when the tables flip over hopelessly
Focus on the One with all the answers
The Wonderful Counselor up above
He will give you the strength to be brave
And the wisdom to be the problem solver
For with His counsel comes victory
And His glory will be revealed
To be the cutting-edge and bring hope to many.
THE CUTTING EDGE*
salt and salt assault
their wrists can’t resist
the attack, the zip
their skates sizzle
on the salty ice
sniffervescent**
cold and fresh
unresistant
chained back to back
in escapades
hearts a-beating
threatening to give them away
so they turn
a-way and away
‘til an I love you
is dropped onto the ice
like a lady’s lacy handkerchief
the olympians trace
a myriad of hearts
on the transparent rink
the rush of applause
the comeuppance of audience*** —
loves pink-glazed cheeks
4/30/2021
*The Cutting Edge - 1992 Movie tribute
**Sniffervescent - The effervescence of sniffing the ice,
the enjoyment of being on the ice
***comeuppance - I’ve used here as a reversal of its original meaning -
the crowd comes to its feet, instead of penalty, a reward.
The rocks in water
like words, between
the tears.
Quasi-pain, reverberating
like a river.
It flows?
intermittently. The lava
of an active volcano.
You want to cover
the smashed skull.
The mirror
breaks, under the shock.
It had never happened before.
A nude streaking
on the screen.
The moon had nothing
to offer. Over and spent.
It moves on its axis
ungoverning?
the stars.
Satish Verma
My son just bought the most amazing camera
With super fast shutter speed, “on the edge of the cut”
And when he photographed my wife and I
He managed to snap her with her mouth shut
The night is truly coming down
Life blood flowing
Against the stainless steel
Reverberating
Echoes of pain
Shower my being
Cannot stop
The black abyss of
Hopelessness
As the river runs red I wonder
Will this wounding
Turn my story around or
Will it be the same
So I continue calling
To no one there
"Let me out-let my soul be calm"
Still the droplets of confusion
Find their way deep into the night
They flow with a definitive rhyme
And I have my reasons
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