Long Vanities Poems

Some days and nights
I am terrorized by death,
cold silo ache-echoing fear,
claustrophobic breathless dark
barking inevitable factness and finality
of my decomposing mortality,
and posthumous demise,
probably post-humorous as well,
should we discover any essential difference.

What good is death
if it cannot...

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"Barefoot in the Bushfires of the Vanities"



Heat rises slowly to rapture flames licking and teasing
Blue Ghostgums to stretch and crack wide open
as Fire spreads molten sweet sap bleeding burgundy all over 
amber gold wild bush...

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I was relaxing in my sunroom, one very peaceful afternoon,
Enjoying the fables of Aesop, and all the flowers abloom.

The view from the many windows, was gold sunshiny delight,
With blossoms and rich greenery, and many birds...

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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 4

I ask you this: Have you ever known a man to ‘buckle under stress’?
Or have you never seen a man have a ‘moment of madness’?
Have you not...

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Where did you go?
I want you to know
That I love you so, 
But I got to get up and roam
Due to being far from home 

Oh, I hear them...and feel them...

I hear the echoes of...

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PART 1:          THE MEETING

Alone one night neath lantern light, I trudged a weary mile.
Forlorn, I went with shoulders bent (the storms around me howled)
until I met...

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Luther Vandross recorded a song
that says something like
"We had the best love around...
We were the talk of the town."

I can't think of the last time
a greatly famous and resilient love affair
was the talk of even...

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(Spoken) All I could do is go away without looking back 
The wind blows to and fro and I'm back on track 
You and I smile to hide the pain
Don't be stuck in the past...

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We’re in NYC - at last - on Christmas vacation, and it feels like a pardon.

It’s amazing what can happen in just a few wild and change-filled hours. One minute, seemingly, you’re in a picture...

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Sonnet Doubles, A Poet's Deeper Thoughts 

I Will Not Fiddle To New Hollow Tunes

I will not play fiddle to hollow tune
nor beg day, be lit by pale light of moon
life to have worth, must not...

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Wherein Man's Dark Curse, Felled The Olympic Gods',
Part One

(I.) 

Thus to blindness, the fallen god was blindly bound
In a blacken tragedy, doomed to darken earth:
Nature then refused to its soothing music sound
That of existence, death...

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To Heal A Soul Waning In Want
 A collaboration with Lawrence Sharp
12th April 2019


To Heal A Soul Waning In Want

Man thus beseeches 

  Angry midnight moon spat at earth far below
  twinkling stars...

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I see God by faith, in His majesty 
revealing His blessings for mankind
with His awesome dawn-wonders:
 
Azure-accentuated ambiance awaits aspiring artists
Baby’s birth brings blessings, blowing boredom-blues
Cool calmness charms circumspect chefs to create cuisine cravings 
Daybreak...

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The following promises were given of the Blessed Mother to Saint Dominic and Blessed Alan in the twelfth century
These promises are fifteen in number
and are for Christians who recite the Rosary.  
The Blessed Mother...

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The bet had been bound ... and boldly called,
          Right there on the cold castle grounds at eventide -
       ...

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Hold me within the virtual chalice of righteous
And never let me stray too long amid the imperfection of this body
From this visage of dignity, once poured upon my soul...
That not deceit nor hypocracy become the...

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The day is coming and it will come, 
when in retrospect, men shall mock them.
Those who today ride in honour, trampling as they go.
the upcoming springs will research their shame which they pretend to ignore
evil...

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are you fed up and frustrated with some aspects of life?
with  those things and people that only seem to bring you sorrow and strife
we've done too much spending on style, form and fashion
not enough...

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pure and simple
the smile and dimples
the vanity of being wanted

loved and adored,
 such admiration might
 cause one to be ignored

thus should such behavior
 cause others to favor
simply by the looks of the flesh

eyes can lie
and...

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In the twilight of my melancholy existence, love savors its bravery, like a vulture allergic to the suspicious aspects of ephemeral glamour, in a final macabre choreography.
 On the edge of the precipice of my...

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I was a marvelous ophthalmologist, impacting how others saw this world,
As tomorrow one day sees yesterday, on lanes where hued leaves swirled.

I corrected hazy, crazy vision problems, with eyeglasses and with surgery;
Like a second look,...

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Part One of Two

Mary Elizabeth Frye Dedication Poems, Seventh Poet Honored
Part One 

(1.)
Graveyard Visit, Seeing Death's Saddest Truth

Walking rows of silent tombstones that litter in my head
I see far more than just faces of buried...

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My heart is inditing a poetic matter
My tongue is the workmanship of a divine potter
My glossa is the verbal-scripter of a meditative writer
These words are the instinctive outburst of my soul
Liken to the boiling fountains...

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Here lies papa, the bravest warrior

Who turned the cats back to the ground.

Whose mighty sword slain thousand soldiers at a sight

And his presence calmed the snarling hyenas

Salute to the mountainous beast among humans

Salute to the...

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We met upon the stairs. In a brief moment of chance, I did not allow myself to be drawn away by other brighter, faster burning lights which held a momentary fascination and then flicker away...

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