Short Front(A) Poems

she looked at me
a pot on the head
a baby on the back
another in the womb
in front, a toddler
on shoulder, firewood
“Good morning Madam”,
I greeted, but no answer
Mistaken, poor me!
A sculpture she was
an African woman!...

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dark weekend nights

the time of fancy dinners

supercars parked

the sound of v12’s fill the air

behind there’s a Bugatti

in front a Lamborghini

as midnight creeps around

everyone starts to leave

for them it’s just another night

for me it’s a dream


- inspired my my little brother :)







...

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I fell in trance
Light poke my eyes
Darkness is the brightness I see

Behind my back
A restless crowd chokes,
Building hopes on gloom

In front, a few with cake,
Having to eat with blunt smile
Their eyes blindly open to see

Up and down named heaven and earth
What place does hell have?
Still she dominates the universe...

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Sometimes, though not often anymore
Hitler taps my shoulder
Be serious you laugh, this could not be
But you are you and I am me
Quietly reading, hidden in a book
As I so often was in midst of Blitz
A fast running front, a storm
A roll of thunder crumples in the distance
Grows louder near
Flashes and crashes here
Rumbling recedes
The storm passes
And my subconscious
Listens for sirens
Sounding  All Clear...

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Stopped a front a marble alter
guilt of crosses to bear,
unrepentant sins left to falter, 
a damage beyond repair.
Awakening a slumbered light
a soulless heart to fill,
burning a fuse that refuses to ignite
revulsion of the catholic swill.
Devils of a demented scroll,
souls rise to an angels call,
masquerading with unfashionable droll
death ultimately succumbs us all.
Divided souls of subtle pragmatics
 an unyielding faith of fruitlessness fanatics....

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THE BEST OF FRIENDS

The best of friends never been the best,
up front a beautiful rose flower backstabber in the chest,
stability goes east maturity takes the west,
Another vulture story away from good scent,
the best of friends literally like the rest,

The best of friends in a city of gold,
black and white another story to be told,
victims major in the riddle complex to unfold,
never did it matter besides now getting old,
January on the match December headlines been sold....

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