Peace...no,
bombs exploding;
it's war!
The wars
fought to get peace,
did not:-
Pooped bombs
swell graves' bellies;
death farts:-
The kids
feed wars each day;
death pleased:-
In wars,
only death wins;
peace can't:-
Love peace,
wars are evil;
crave life:-
I wandered like a cursed devil
Roaming in the darkness of heaven
When all the angeI died, I saw an owl
End up in the womb of a craven;
Beside the brave, beneath the desire,
Dancing with time, so look at the sky
Its over, o its over my mighty god
The last light slowly goes out
Rip a bones then tears a blood
Forgoten in the midst of crowd
Blinded, no cursed soul allowed
Shallow, let destiny throw a sorrow
The hell is other people
The people just build a border
Even Adam and Eve eat an apple
The sins better faster than never
Lose by fate is immortal death
O lonely soul; hunt for a soulmate
Should I? Tell me, should
I kill myself or kill my rage
Or blissfully with solitude;
Burn every wave or a cage
Alas! O who wants to forgive me?
O mighty god, who wants to hug me?
sextet of birthdays in December -
seven, if you count the precious Lord.
his candle shines the brightest
as each person learns to scoff
at the softball candles that light
their cake, presenting wrinkles
and gray hair, never the nearer
to the extravagant ageless king
who sits above angels’ wings.
12/31/2020
ECSTASY
to awake
and then to dwell,
pillowed on your breasts,
there to pause awhile..
draped in tenderness..
muffled in love's caress!
ECSTASY
to awake
and then to dwell,
pillowed on your breasts,
there to pause awhile..
draped in tenderness..
muffled in love's caress!
NOTE
SEXTET FORM maybe six lines
or six lines of reducing numbed of words or syllables per line
Losing her, a dream,
winter ravaged my soul and
Now the snowman melts.
Solitary bird,
why sing you only of spring
outside my window?
I stole a flower
from nature's bed,bottled it.
Now it is dying.
The crunch of brown leaves
tells me nothing whatsoever
about decay, death.
It is November,
but the air forgets that as
it dances springtime.
Winter is most real,
fall most sad, summer holy,
but spring is a dream.
Sad Sextet.
Rainy day
Wet dog on pavement
Looking in
Seeing me
Sit by the cosy fireside
Ignoring its plight.
There's always a house
Some weird vacant residence
Kids stay away from
Especially on certain nights
Those nights when the Moon is bright
Climbing those porch steps
Would take more than just courage
No child would risk it
It's the Taylor House Story
A tale both true and GORY!
The house I describe
Has three stories a long porch
And boarded windows
Except for one by the top gable
'Death's Door' so goes the fable
No boards on this one
No glass either just splinters
Three jagged sabres
It's said a boy in his teens
Stuck in his head - GUILLOTINED!
Now! On moonlit nights
Some still hear those awful thumps
The window comes down
THUMP! His head hits the roof THUMP!
Rolls on down hits the ground THUMP!
Well? To climb those steps?
It would be insanity
No child would risk it
A vision so full of dread
That thumping bouncing DEAD HEAD!
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