I had fun brushing the sky, with its impeccable blue,
then a sweep here and there of cloud’s silvery lining.
A few waffled spots amplified the intensity of hue.
Screws lightly driven at the base, release grassy knots.
A verdant green tenderly arcs toward the florid intimacy.
The blades of Spring, frothing, wild, free, like slingshots.
A xanthous sun surmised in the center-peak, brightening
the early american-orange blend that postulates a fence.
All before the placement of strong, sturdy, heightening.
Panels contain state-of-the-art gray-green stems and leaves.
Within the folds of the sun, magenta-pink petals. On left,
yellow and purple blossoms. On right, red and white cleaves.
Multi-hues spell out Love Blooms. Letters hidden in the grass.
It is Spring, a time to revive. It is April - my heart grieves, but
it is also alive with forty-four companion years for a lad & lass.
The brotherhood of man
When he came into the hall, his brother came down
the stairs, he had forgotten to buy milk
Outside, guns blasted his brother fragmented to
a hail of noise and blood on splattered asphalt.
The soldiers, in a killing mood, shot into the hall
he ran up to the third-floor flat where his sons sat
told them to flee to the roof of opposite buildings
They refused and had slingshots to defend themselves
he didn’t try to persuade the boys, undid a window
and jumped on the next roof as bullets of ill will
hissed past like angry wasps on an August afternoon.
The building he escaped to had once been a clinic
for those who hated their faces and wanted a change
This war had descended into brutal self-delusion
where the news shouted slogans of hatred, beating
People to mass hysteria, blindly killing anyone that
resembled the foe, not seeing the enemy was them
committing fratricide.
When the blood lust of ammo suppliers was sated
a nervous calm until a flash of light lit up the sky
there was no one left to tell why the war had started.
why yellow flowers
Are so afraid of the wind...?
And the ripe fruits
so afraid of slingshots... ?
why flowers don't
fear nudity so much and
why are they handsome
when naked ?
where is your azimuth,
here, there or the sky...?
why is the sun stays this
so solo... ?
The moon is a chaperone,
or is it without company...!?
Does short rain
fear storm...?
There is something most dangerous
than no flight plane?
why loneliness doesn't
search company for
not being so alone...?
why do dreams reach
its final when we wake up...?
The inmates
The young prisoners with slingshots
fight an army that shoots back with sharp bullets
The young keep on fighting
An enemy the knows no mercy, control the water
supply and electricity.
How many young men and women must die?
Is the enemy willing to commit mass murder?
to eradicate a race of people?
The world looks but says little and some elderly
ask: why can`t the young prisoners behave.
Playing hopscotch upon the stars
Planets stare in awe at the child
Capturing the universe in a jar
Lassoing moonbeams, future rays of hope
To illuminate all dark and dreary nights
So his creation finds a way to cope
With Pluto in his slingshots aim
He slams it into Mars
Mixes dust in cosmic rain
Atoms collide from a sonic blast
The embryo shivers into a life
That will be destined to forever last
A spiralling meteor is defleted
A crater forms deep and wide
And a vast sea is ressurected
He strips Orion of his belt
And bands it round the atmosphere
Until gravity is felt
Breath of life
A second chance
Will they get it right this time?
Death whispered my name today,
a soft seductive coo in my ear.
Proceeding onward to invade my very soul;
And over my body,
I felt the creeping cold take hold.
I closed my eyes to join the dance,
the romance of the dead;
Leading me from what I used to be,
into where I'll spend eternity,
where waltzes will never end for me.
So Free.
The shout of loved ones slingshots me back.
Lying in a cold sweat,
awake and screaming,
perhaps I was just dreaming.
Perhaps if it were more than a whisper,
I would have answered deaths call,
after all.
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