Short Graphed Poems

Apparently I’m just a tool
Destinies fool.
But I refuse the jesters part
Of this proceeding court.

What map has fate graphed?
That stalks my epitaph
What star harbors doom?
The ethereal gloom
Must my ship,
So gallant and fierce,
And blades tip,
Unjustly pierce 
The veil of this play
Fates arranged day.

Where can chance ring
Where I can freely sing
My path unfold
My future withhold
My destiny untold....

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Limpid she lay, languid on the boardwalk ledge,
Arms akimbo, not a ray missed by the water's edge,
Not a hair out of place, nuanced and bronzed,
Glowing and golden, the Fonz would be out-Fonzed.
Ultra cool and 'look at me', each movement choreographed,
Idiosyncratic her beachwear apparel, make up expertly graphed.
Distant and aloof her womanly wiles, pouting lips slightly parted,
.....as she bent over to pick up her bag, the heavenly vision farted!...

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