Twas on a winter midnight that was sensed
a dark phantasmal world of pretence,
my broken heart is still unrecompensed.
Twas on a winter midnight that was sensed
the world we held as true was now incensed
there are no unchanging laws to make defence.
Twas on a winter midnight that was sensed
a dark phantasmal world of pretence.

love has no permanency
anyone can at any time leave

believe or disbelieve
love is just a notional breeze
that temporarily does freeze

but if you are so sure
she loves you
and
your rosy petals more
enjoy the wait
as she will come

keep decorating your gate
she loves roses
more than a silly date

At the top of Mt Ngungun we huffed together;
three Fijian girls, their hair catching the last rays
puffed out how totally worth it the view was -
white screens in hands, heads down. Twittering away.

A big frowning woman swipes sweat from
her cleavage thinking no one saw.
We all saw and felt the embarrassment
roll down to our sweaty, baking feet.

Well I remember yon fine day
down by the deep Loch Ness.
I cast my fly so far away
which soon caused me distress.

Instead of hooking trout out there
on mud banks thick and messy.
Stepped through flat fish floundering where
I had to battle Nessie.

I wrestled her as you have guessed
though that was not my plan.
I only wished for herring dressed
not pilchards from a can.

It took a while to free the line
that Nessie had entangled.
I found my rod, my tackle, twine
hopelessly were mangled.

What we are
who are we
no one can say
except we ourselves
our nudity display
we are we

yes but who are we
that’s a million dollar question
anyone’s guess,
who we are
but epitomes,
each one of us in our own way
you a poet
he an artist

we mostly are followers
clapping machines
for all epitomes
ere they reach their tombs

Who are we but different beings,
it’s all the indifference within us
this makes each one of us different.

I walked to the end of the world last night
And peered over the edge
I saw good people going hungry
I saw evil people decadent in their excesses
Crying they need more of the pie
I saw the masses of the self-righteous
Walking like zombies to pay homage to the rich
An offering on hopes that someday
They will be the decadent too
I saw solders killing without cause
While politicians cried more, more, more
Then I saw the great and merciful moon
Doing her part to save humanity from itself

BLACK WIDOW
1946

A large black-rimmed hat and
black silk veil covered her face
of ruby red lips and piercing dark eyes,
and a smile that betrayed her lies
she walked across the grass
in mourning black, in a sensual dance
swaying hips in motions slow.
she was a friend to many men,
and married some who never did see
more than one rising sun.

A dripping old willow
sheltering
the gray and lost,
hushing colorless
rainbow sighs.

A raised goblet's shattering fall
had forever affixed
joy with despair.

Parched, dust covered dreams

A travelers trunk, rusted shut

Lullabies drifting, listless, unsung

Blank memories
tearfully pondered,
all the while,

the old willow just shakes off the rain

.............................................................

DANCING

Every movement I make
Is a dance in slow motion,
a poetry of the body in distress
each thrust into the void suggests
a primal grace beyond rigidity,
and the sublimity of the spirit
defying constriction of space.
it is who we are we Warriors
of the human race.

Richard for Joe