He is almost perfect, just a chip on his nose,
a neatly bearded patrician.
His spouse is seriously damaged,
her face mangled by time.
In the museum two Roman busts
placed a little apart from each other.
I sense her mood; insight gives her words.
“I never loved him.” the marble woman says,
her one crushed eye tilts toward her consort.
“He was ever the highhanded martinet.
His original bust was hacked off,
it lay face down in the dust for hundreds of years
covered in goat . This one is a fake him.
I like him better.”
•The li'l kid was promised to celebrate next birthday together,
•The lady was the happiest by the news of next meeting.
•Some considered him martinet,
With family he was so loving and piquent.
That ghoul, that monster took them all away....
Many things were assured.. will always be in way.
Daughter had promised to marry the way her father wanted,
It might be the word now, that would be hated..
The anger, the pain, the grief and the hopelessness has no end,
I hope sacrifices in our nation will not become "trend"....
Cut the strings which bind my limbs take the cog which winds my soul
Take the wires from back
Show me the directions to the path I lack
Show me my heart you stole from me tear me open and put it back.
Give me life and give me meaning
Give me balance to keep from leaning
Show me how it feels to live without a hand to hold
Where will i be without one to be told
How will you feel when I get to old
To be a puppet
Without a handler, without a martinet
Yet always have a hand below to hold a net
In case I fall
Will you be there
Will you walk with me to the heavens stairs
When I go you will be there
Hand in hand we will be
Forever safe and forever happy.
Lying in an augur's aviary..
Reneging on my virtues,so credulous..
The feying fay being taken to
bury,
I see things called ambigous.
Slowly fading odour of scantity..
In Attica, end of augustan age.
Wings of Azreal, the martinet
deity,
I see these, with espied rage.
Hydaes casting spell every
night..
The abysmal wizard of dark
kinglet.
Between scylla and cherybdis is
my sight..
Seeing through the torment
outlet.
Through that window, with
arriere pensee..
I see me, the ambling ember
Once alive, now frozen modus
vivendi..
Promenading with flowing ichor.
Still with each sunshine..
I see hope blazing through..
A jocund scene,hard to miss.
The changing magniloquent
hue..
Palladium of gamut bliss.....
Love is a martinet
A displinarian who has
Panel beaten the minds
Of the madman
I'm no exception for
My heart sings
LOVE
The pigeon music