Jazz notes ring out,
Teardrops beat down on my window dress.
Thunder has grown,
Thunder sings loudly and repeats until finito says.
Jazz notes ring out,
Inside,
Sunshine comes and goes instead,
Again and again.
Train tracks come along and eventually lead to a dead end,
So;
There are no take backs for what’s been said.
The rain taps my shoulders,
But somehow,
The Sun’s glare still beats against the back of my head.
Everyday is a little sun shower.
Maintenance lacks the gift of sudden death,
But there are no take backs once you’re under the bed.
Is knowledge just the memory
of what has gone before
Our current thoughts a window dress,
in search of something more
Are ideas in our DNA,
and cellular as such
Feelings lost within those thoughts,
wading through the dust
Is our soul but then a footnote
to a novel other writ
Our searching doomed to wander back
—beyond the starts and fits
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2020)
I goggled my powered screen
And saw venom founded smiling faces
I watched tongues dance in deceit
And there chameleon lips
Bounced and marched to this ignominy.
They propagate their obvious robbery
With unconvincing window-dress
And celebrates their heinousness
By camoflagging this mist-free fraud
Jaw agape,on my tongue a sweet liquid descend.
What is this they've given life?
That enveloped the day in darkness
Mere anarchy, cut loose eventually
By these sheep skinned wolves
We afore-elected in ignorance.
To hold on; they turn their bloody self.
Alas! our screams reach not a drum
But their whispers fill all ears.
The decision we strenuously made
With the lines adorning our thumbs
Has been quashed by these gangsters,
And to their mercy our future lies.
Lisabi, Oronna, where lies your eyes
Obanta et al, why remain so muted
And watch them deface
Your hard founded land.