In silence I keep on brooding
why it's me all the time,
while you folks are sleeping
I witness all the crime?

By a lonely light on the street
a beggar counts his coins,
a hooker is poised to greet
a bloke who eyes her loins.

In neon of the red lit zone
all dark sides come to light,
when sins are bared to the bone
under the cloak of a luring night

I watch lights go to sleep
one by one in your homes,
from some I hear a shriek
from some, frenzied moans.

A Trial Blazed…

I walked this trail
long before he came,
hunting for food to
feed a family.
To him it’s just another
game, not just for feed,
also vanity.

I don’t say I deserve it
more, though he has
better tools than I.
Choosing the right prey
can even the score, all in
all success means
the targets die.

I leave home without
a truck, or sturdy boots,
I bet no one in your world
gives a fuck, or to be polite,
two hoots.

Each year at the midnight bells chime….. I feel a spinal spasm ….have I grown a bit older ….nearing the periphery of my eternal resting place…. or have I endeared ….a time gone by ….just in haste.

Each year I feel a bit of chill …as the snows pave my way …but then small mercies… have a way… they help you with champagne …on a New Years eve day.

Do not label terrorists
as Christians or Muslims!
They threaten the peace
with their endless schemes

When religion teaches love,
respect, tolerance and humility
all that they have to serve
is hatred, chaos and disharmony.

Do not let their presence weakens us,
turning us against each other
we are making it all so much worse
when we start blaming one another

Stop pointing fingers and listen!
The devils are laughing in delight
enjoying the loss of reasons
as our blind fists begin to strike

Ruler of the Sky

Majestic ruler of the sky
flying high above the trees.
Looking for a meal
to feed her hungry brood.
Too many mouths to feed.

Awake oh little creatures
to the terror of the sky.
She hunts for you
to feed her young.
All run for the trees.

Safety in them
for she needs the room
for the mighty span of her wings.

Her talons come forth
as she spots her prey…
too late for the trees.

By: Sharon Jones

What Death is this
that would leave me breathing?
Walk with me hand-in-hand
and sit on the end
of the Earth
dangling
our legs to tease the stars
as the faces
of my dead
friends
float by on holiday

A hole waits for me
and will continue to wait
despite my willingness
to eat hors d'ourves with worms and maggots
because Death won't pull the trigger
or kick out the chair.

What are you afraid of
Death?
That you will make me happy?

sheltered and broken
like the sunrise dank
in a dray tombs break

lay across the dusted din
of echoes seizure
tumbling in its fault
the wavelength wrought

a brilliance blue
of argon and ague
stretching with its
residual residency
the steps unsteady

loop steps
a jagged lace
the ice thinned
and hungry
wind shied
and espied

beneath the oval
of the eyes
shackled in need
bled haste
a greed
the circling
steps go round
and round

It is the many hidden truths
that get to me,
the lies, the little ones
especially,
the kind words
that fail to mask
the trouble in your eyes.

The vision was still born
and those doctors cut some chords,
they put her bloody
in a rubber sack and labeled it
with a date,
but not a name.

Acronyms it seems to me
are now the language of the day.
IDK and BRB,
what the hell did I just say?

I see young people here in town
with calloused thumbs and finger tips.
Their eyes flash up but usually down,
not one word passes stony lips.

Those thumbs fly then they look up.
Across the way somebody smiles
(perhaps the're making plans to sup)
it's not like they're apart by miles.

A casual walk along a rivers edge abandoned,
as a youthful reflex action takes its hold.
The body by the consciousness of time is caught in
genuflection, with reaching arm and searching hand.
An aging mind admonishes this coaxing out of child,
and reproach retrieves the posture proper to the years.