Seek not friendship
of a tree in a forest
there are so many
the next time you pass

the same lane
you wouldn't know
which tree came

and
smiled back at you

did you me woo
for friendship

I wish you knew
there are a million trees like me
which kind are you
will you tell me true

all trees lovers come and go
place hands on bare skin
to their love show
then they simply go
are you not one
like the same one
I said so
now you may also go

I don't have anything.
And I know how funny,
what a gas that is to say,
given the opulence by which I live.

I was married once,
married twice,
married yet again,
to a woman who despised me,
to Church and career.

And no I can't say
I'm better off for any of it.

Wherever I go from here,
wherever I go
I can be assured
like I was before
of people judging
judging
judging,
and I can be sure
my cyn(icism) will get in the way.

beneath a torn
roof
atop dust irons escape
wind fingers cool
the slip of nape

dirty denims
ragged shoes
no one here
disturbs the blue

no one here
too make
or break
the devils
idle angry
few

but secrets
buried in a kiss
closed off in
years a bend
a twist
shelters bureau
stolen scenes
alive like
wicca wicker
means

Beyond the bowed mountain
land that had seethed through its teeth
cracked a thunderous crack
so bold, so low, so ominous
that it sent shivers through the air
and trapped
trundling angels in their tracks.

It brought the scurrying miracle of men
in a nocturnal flurry to the inceptive scene
where lightning greeted the ground
conducted with a petrifying sound
the spark that lit the sibylline tinder world.

IN MEMORIAM

I lost a dear, dear friend this day.
the pain of death has no words
that measure the depth of emptiness
and the sickness of a heart torn and bleeding
and itself near to dying.
the soul surrenders to its sorrow,
and tears are shed for stolen tomorrows.

the battered bed
the tired room
the wind blew through
the curtian of soul
she said Love
needed nurture
like flowers
too grow

...

Run with glee down the cobblestone street,
full of youth's joy, never downbeat.
Football with all the neighborhood kids,
be a nuisance and bang rubbish bin lids.
Kicking a tin can and throwing stones,
childish pleasures and prepubescent hormones.
Mothers with prams and wailing babies,
girls in the park making chains of daisies.
A screech of brakes and slamming doors,
cricket on Sunday's and summer downpours.
Moths fluttering around the dim streetlight,
an adventure waiting at the building site.

If you could read my mind
you will smile
how I smile
all my while
many think I'm mental still
but smile I will

why have a dark mind
thinking of tears only

Smile and see
how tears of joy flow
from where they come
to where they go
no one will nor ever know

but they wash away all sadness
that I know
so smile as much will you also
as much as I smile
with thee
smile fellow poet
with me

The Dark of the Night
Makes Way for Dawn's Early Light
Then the Sun Shines Bright