Each night,
I miss your mint,
in mornings, like my coffee,
and in between
we ride on our breaths,
play, wind and unwind.

I wake up
on a crumpled sheet,
caress to find it moist,
pillows strewn hither thither,
as too is the girdle
sprawled upside down.

My eyes veiled in pink,
lips sore,
nails blunt,
hair disheveled,
and my skin
wearing goose bumps.

Would that I knew of a moment sublime,
would that I heard once a mockingbird rhyme,
but there is naught that’s divine I recall.
I know of only the depth of my Fall.

Would that I heard once a musical phrase;
phrases that sung to the heart of my soul,
music that might hold my too weary gaze.
I know of only the forspent and droll.

Nothing in life poses blessings of aught.
Nothing is bright, no not even my thought.
Thence, I am lonely, a bleary, old man,
one who shall muddle the best that he can.

Lawyers as fierce as tigers
locked in a battle of wits
Voices raised in anger
fists clenched, teeth grits

I object!
Overruled!
The tension filled the air
The judge warns with a glare

Accusations, condemnations,
the war of words debates
the claim of innocence.
Let the evidence be displayed!

The panel of jury listens
The judge sits in silence
The media witnesses
before drawing to conclusion

Someone's heart will bleed
for the hope of salvation

I refused to spend
our last minute in grief, so
(to remove this other visage
threatening a takeover)
I transposed over it

your face
with that gorgeous smile,
holding in contemplation,
a curious child, me.

then control was lost,
your eyes
swollen in sadness
with an agony
we carried together,
unmoving they
consumed me

and now,
my face burns,
with a heart
arched in sorrow,
in the knowing yours
is now reposed
in heaven

We’re So Strange, ARE WE NOT…

Tilting at windmills is tiresome, I know
because I’ve been doing it for years.
Still we’ve got to change this world we
live in, it’s just so ugly as it appears.

People dying for freedoms, they hardly
know what they’re struggles are for.
The next person to oppress them, is
the bastard who took them to war.

We need to take a leaf out of Gandhi’s book,
smash all weapons, use only a labouring hammer,
don’t fight, only work for each other,
you’ll soon hear our grand leaders clamber.

Each one of us is an identity
what a pity
we all are so different
and
have a different poetic inference

what of metaphorical notion
poetry is partly autobiographical

and

mostly inspirational
metaphors are known but rarely used
most poetry is generally implied
we thank each other
for being poetic guides
as all enjoy the mental
plateau- tudunal rides

aromatic air
the ocean riding
its froth line
below the highway
salted tang
the motors tingle
beneath the wide
wheel

sky blue eyed
the world slips by
the wind fingers
trailing loose
ends

i stray in you,
frowardly,
in your keep,
pallidly
aware of your
panting crest,
deftly,
in your
wake

your savvy,
frailly,
indicating
our course,
along the shores
of a traversed brim.

i lay in you,
resigned
to the sway
of your waves
(of age)
rekindling the
memoirs
of an age

Lying on the bed,
two bodies lay entwined.
Sacred vows are broken
Lust is served as wine

Hands exploring
Hearts dancing in delight
after so many nights
they have long been deprived

Tasting the honey-sweet sin
forgetting the poison within,
the horned devil is laughing
the traitors' fates have been sealed

It's not that you are ignored by God,
It's just like before the war sharpening the sword,
He is preparing you for the best,
So strengthen yourself forget the rest,
Remember mango doesn't ripen in a day,
Frogs too wait for rain,
Don't let your days weaken in vain,
Patience for the big event is yet to happen!