Short Unfurnished Poems

Sadness echoes once more in my chambers,
pain, residing in me like a filthy squatter,
and my heart is squalid,
unfurnished.

Surrounded in you,
you are the fastness of my echo....

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I am naked of you,
once again unclothed by love
unfurnished
I know everything of nothing.

In sympathy of tears
the air gives up its water
Hydrogen
You separate the oxygen.

Locked in cycles
we hold our own truth
pulsating
we pass through aeons....

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Oblong,
curved,
rectangular,
squared,
circular,
spherical,
hexagonal,
cubical,
and traingular,
these were and several others,
the shapes,
of millions,
of partitions in my memory,
I was looking to fit ideas of shapes similar,
but fits were far and wide,
I needed to stock likes and alikes,
but all lay strewn,
harried and troubled,
I had to admit,
that I had an unfurnished mind....

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Hell is my mind,
heaven is my mind,
ghetto is my mind,
palace is my mind,
it is unfurnished,
and furnished,
it is a umble of extremes,
it is stable,
and quite a fable,
it has with this rot,
made many learn,
and called well taught,
I wonder if they will preserve mine,
like they did of many,
who did the maximum whine,
even if they did it would be of little use,
because I would not be there with my mind....

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