Long Ladling Poems

It's styles of a nameless brand pristine day
an exclusive star-sheathed shadow after 
overwhelming luminous glare fainted
a somewhat true-to-life footpath in
a back of structured quaintness

Encountering myself at a passionate spring
oozing its life gliding o'er its rocky...

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5.  Murasame’s Story Concludes

("Noh" is an ancient Japanese style of 
drama, broadly similar to Elizabethan
tragedy.  "The Wind in the Pines" is
my version of a well-known Noh play.)


MATSUKAZE & MURASAME 
(chanting in harmony) 
Pine...

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I am Africa, I am man
Hear my drums, know my heart beat
My sorrow is not metered in iambic lines
Life does not speak that way
So artificial this enumeration of joy
So false this constant rise and fall...

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Scary people are everywhere
weaving through backbones of rain-soaked roads
taillight burning A holes in my balding white walls.
Scary people in endless grocery store lines
carts filled with poison pop tarts and 
cheap headache wine
they never smile-
haven't smiled...

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Martin was a man of mettle Kingly to the clan
Athletic in prowess the pristine preacher's son
Registered first as Michael, he heaven's rapturer
Templed his genius above the common A grader
Interned to Moorehouse, forsook a health degree
Nurtured...

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Little tree, I loved you the first time I saw you
Your green leaves bright 
Ladling laughters of light
Your eyes sparkling sweetly like a silver dew.

The wind around you whisper at your dance
Erudition flown on spring
Butterflies...

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 Felt absurd as they kindly said
I could have my heart’s wildest wish
A golden chance to knock and order
a costly ensemble or a flying fish

Mom, an admirable and genial woman
stood waiting till all of us...

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Tutti Fruiti

Lovers ladling luscious love sips,
Kiss kumquats for passionate pair.
Peaches and  pears and purple plums
Fresh fruit fritters fling affair

Love apples, appetite appealing,
Lovely lips in tasty tender
Nectar needing naught to sweeten
Sweethearts sail to swift surrender.

Cantaloupe...

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Again the well of poetry was dry,
My pail was drawing up no deep inspired
Thought or subject matter. All was dull, tired,
Stale water, no exciting trick to try. 

Once more the fountain gave me naught but...

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You are Alexander the Great upon
my Gordian Knot that Misery has
wrapped me in. A swift cut placed
with expert precision, pragmatic.

You are Hebe, ladling the sweet
ambrosia of your love into my
ever parched goblet, drinking
desperately your honeyed...

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I steal glances at you in my rear-view mirror
Every morning we start for work
Those aviator sunglasses on that handsome face
Make me fall in love again

The way you lovingly attend to me
Every evening we sit for...

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