I love
taking my folks on a merry go around
not like in a circus
but
Universe
then I see all along with them
and
show what they could not see

imagery is my forgery
and
so I can't conceal
they enjoy all thrills
and their pills
and
I enjoy paying for them
such are poetical emotions

we are passed the age of delivery
our grand children are now up to it

If roses were poems
would they bloom
poetic blossoms
with anodyne rhymes,
and ambrosian perfumes?

Perfect chaotic flow, murmur of words,
morning echoes surfing on sound waves.
News highlights, gurgling coffee makers,
starting engines, and slamming doors.
My neighbors wake up to the meter of days
and absolute lack of rhyme.

I am one of the sounds surrounding them.
Half-bird, half-human vibe.
Doh-Me-Sol-Doh of the morning,
I bark with the dogs, hang on conference calls,
hide in the voices of lovers
and feed distant storms.

A kite
flying high
guided by string

a bird
soaring skies
in high spirits

spellbound
i wonder
what is freedom

I've stared at stars endlessly
I've liked the way they smile up there in the sky,
the shiny ones and the white ones
I've wondered when our black stars will shine.

when will it shine
from this harassment of mosquitoes-
begging me at night as if were lovers
demonic toilets and bathrooms
waiting for whom to possess
baby crying in a one room apartment of hungry six brothers,
angry sisters, mother and father.

our world keeps on changing
so too has geometry
when two alienated nations don't meet
the line of a peace accord

when most things are obtuse
and right is just a notion
the Pythagoras theorem
is no more an algorithm

when peoples get divided
by incongruous isms
virtual seems so real
a trivial illusion

in today's geo metrics
where the angles keep on changing
these dynamics spell the end
of the Pythagoras regime

What constitutes certified rogue nation?
When criminal leaders commit murder
Without any fear of repercussion
Tar victims as threats to social order

The judicial system will not assist
As subservient serfs dismiss what’s fact
When the victims’ kin in their claims persist
Servile stooges react as per their pact

However despite all their state power
The time of reckoning is drawing near
As victims’ kin bask in their winning hour
And the criminals face justice and fear

Her arms skewed,
She commands the beats
Swaying her hips
Slaying in purple apparel,
Adorned with a touch of rose gold,
Switching of her feet
Pitching her niche

Flowing in
Her masked face,
Such justice to her identity,
We're bewitched by her enchanting,
Adornment speaks flamboyance,
Like the bloom of spring,
Her piercing gaze,
Her jewelry hung like garlands of petals
Such allure such awe.
Here and there,
This way that way,
She sways attentions
and bestirs affections.

skull and tongue

a barrier
a numinous opening

what if we could
read each other’s minds?

but a bee
must travel from
flower to flower

and we must choose
our words
carefully

a mother sees her
five year old son
leave his father
in the other room
without any recognition
mourning his selfishness

not seeing
the pictures of love
for him in his mind

how many
relationships suffer
or end