winters shadow
like the fluid sundogs gleaming
edge a soft beauty
their careful swift wings
will walk with me

bend harsh this deliverance
in these times
for he wears no crown
that all can see
humble
with his love

I will call her simply Jane
To me she needed no name
Our houses built all the same

Her garden backed onto mine
Where we met that first time
A small girl no older than nine

“Hello” she cried out one day
All the barriers flew away
We were in the same place

One older mind and a child
The gap was bridged we talked
Over the fence our spaces safe

“I shall call you Poppy she said”
By this she was inside my head
Another daughter to join mine

The winter returns,
The cold wind breaks the silence
with a long, long sigh

The land lies hidden
under a sea of white snow
beauty, undenied

the reign of the night
lingers in its long embrace
shares a lover's kiss

While the day passes
so swiftly in memory
a fleeing shadow

a homeless beggar
feeling the chill in his bones
praying for its end

for in its beauty
there is the endless longing
for the absent warmth

Two heavenly roads diverged into this callous world,
I took the one less travelled by;
And my soul-mate took the other,
Where her car got stuck in huge traffic jam.

I have been looking for her for years,
And I know, for sure,
Now she is looking for me too,
But in opposite directions.

Let St. Valentine light her tank of love,
Let her come to the crossroads where I still misfire.

(Dhaka, 11 February 2014)

Help me improve too
in life
learning is
a never ending process

we all learn
from others mistakes
as life is too short
to make all mistakes
others have already made
to be convinced
such errors
can be committed
by them
as we alone
have now experienced

this poetry
is a kind of
modern edition

It was a long forgotten walk
the way back home,
no birds lit up the sky
with song,
the trees had died,
all their leaves had run away
and the evening shadows were tall.

I waded through the frigid air,
each step a thought,
each breath was asking why,
but silence
was the answer that you gave
and when I looked no one was there
but ghosts of dreams
left lingering in a grave.

A verdant night
consumes my eyes,
beyond is a light
in blackened skies

portals opened
the unseen seen,
shooting comets
develop a dream

A violin cries
of the deepest dark,
winging my heart
sound found its mark

now in the darkness
my apron of sorrow,
is thrown on the ground
draped into tomorrow

I cant my face
up to the moon,
filling my heart
it vibrates to croon

trees of the shade
move without form,
grass is curling
this isn’t the norm

the room light
bulb blazes fierce
throwing like a noon
day sun
the shadows
askance

but theres a haze
softness rounded
on textures

eyes trained of a
months worth of
chilled snow crystal
rounded topography
chimney plumes
rising as a city bends
and speeds past
beyond bus window
dreamers

If I was a zombie and still wrote poetry
it would be filled with shuffling feet and stumble just like me
Like me, it would have little meaning
and irritate like low pitched keening

It would wander aimlessly.....about
on reading it most folks would SHOUT
then run away in private fear
that such a thing had gotten near

I suspect typos would run rife
from fingers now devoid of life
at least I would have an excuse
for all of my present miscues

The kids are failing.
I work with them after school
once a week, at least
the most I've ever been scheduled is
four times in one week,
this week.
Now there's a big fat paycheck
of forty dollars,
not taking away taxes.
My job is to help with homework
and walk the kids down
to their lockers and classrooms,
respectively,
so they have what they need.

Some of them need a stable figure in their lives.

Those that do don't get one.