Some call it the abyss others call it a gate
that thing that awaits us at the other side.
I guess I just call it my final fate
there at the end of my long glide.

I first glimpsed it many years ago
watching older folks approaching it
some with acceptance others with hot rage.
I still don't know which required the greater grit.

Long years passed by as is their way
too many wasted like old news paper
crumpled then tossed into the burning fray
all while life's spiral gained a steeper taper.

Spring has Sprung

He says its spring
what does he know of seasons

In which world do you reside
here it’s freezing cold
minus 50 outside
inside yes
it’s warm and cozy
total heating
to avoid freezing

else we would need candles
to warm
when we go to the loo
Haahahahaaa.....
smile will you

You must be far in the distant East
where snow rarely does reach
we can send some if you wish
courier it we will
if you pay the bill

More native murder
Killed for being flag bearer
Fearful predator

Her dreams are doomed
Her career is aborted
In the glen of the wild ones
She sobbed and wept.

Never feel marginalized
Never feel abandoned
Never feel betrayed
If all eyes unseeing
One mighty eye is seeing
For you are gender abused.

The unanticipated courage
She has,summoned her strength
The innocent tears is their river
Her screaming is their music
Perhaps her blood's their drink
But the truth she behold
Reflect a believe in GOD
For she is the icon of faith.

The voice of the nagging boss
Lies in my pocket,
I don’t want to listen,
I rip off your heart, still troubles come-
when I put it back,
you are thousands of trouble.

When I sleep in darkness
I travel to get you light
When am hungry
You must be filled even if am bankrupt,
I paused for a moment to think
you are a golden cross tied to the neck of the beholder.

I remember

I woke up this morning looking for you,
And all I found was a picture of you,

It's been months since you've been gone
But every morning I still think of you

I remember the way you smiled at me and said those words that broke me

I remember the way you liked your coffee in the morning
and a kiss before you left for the office

I remember how you would call and check on me
even when you never had the time

I remember how you told me I was beautiful and
I remember those passionate lips

Softly, softly through the wood
where I've walked so oft before;
chimneys show where homes once stood
not far from the river's shore.

Dense pines stand where crops once grew
their tall trunks march in ordered lines
crowns almost obscuring skies of blue.
They shade out all but climbing vines.

And here some pilings still remain,
all that's left of an old covered bridge
which will never span its course again
here at the tail of a long ridge.

Organized intent
Sovereign state dismemberment
Refugee torment

Abrupt revision
Planning for separation
Due reparation

Pro-aggressive stance
Removing any semblance
Of honest balance

Global syndicate
Programmed to prevaricate
Time to abdicate

March in new boots
booms away on the bridge,
stomps the puddles with kids,
breaks reflections with winds,
screeches and rumbles
with birds on the roofs.
Falling apart
with the yesteryear rags,
it throbs in new roots and buds.
March writes with me
bursting out in sticky
and slightly anemic first lines
about leaves, talons, kisses
and lost in the wind
shadows and shingles.

IRiz 2018