Stained filthy brick,
lining dark alleys,
little light penetrates,
inner recesses of these shadowed walls.
Slick rainbow shades of color,
sit atop puddled ground.
Tiny vials,
glass pipes,
baggies,
litter soiled earth.

Maggots,
human waste,
excrement,
foul each breath inhaled.

Back aches and heart break
from sleepless nights
in a Buick, life is a mess

Keeping my head high
telling myself
"I can get through this"
It is simply a test

What should have been
New York strip
and glasses of Champaign
is a bowl of top ramen
and a cup of kool-aid

My pride won’t let
me beg for change
or lean on a friend for a
place to stay

Two pair of eyes in the darkness
Four ears to hear the hurt
The beating, thuds and whimpers
From the muzzle in the dirt

A snarling maw, a shadowy form
Two fists of fury hot
Teeth that shred and tear your flesh
Mercy... there is not

Your dog was ever loyal
He don't need this kind of grief
Now we're gonna torture you
When you die, you'll get relief

Killer kicks some ribs and breaks them
The Black... he rends his hand
Oozing blood and gasping breath
Will not let him stand

There were times when I was growing up
and my worldly troubles were bothering me,
where I couldn't face things life put in my way
so, my intentions were to pack, and then flee.

I know now, that the answer
wasn't running away from home,
all the mishaps, and the misfortunes
will follow me wherever I roam.

So, that set my mind to thinking
it does that now, and again;
but, life's always going to hurl bad things
that you still have to deal with, in the end;

I am two halves of a common consequence
neither belittled or in awe,
life's work self portrait, half painted.
I am an echo in flesh
but something quite different in self appraisal.

Not better or worse
nothing here rehearsed.
Have skirted the perimeter of my elders eccentricity
before they have time to have forgotten me.

Drawn by those who have gone before
as to what lies ahead of me, inside of us
the departed trust, seeping lust
A legacy that must.

Childhood memories
drift by,
of what happened
as they dried.
I used to blow
white clouds
that danced across
the skies.
So close your
baby blues,
and make your
wishes come true.
I saved the
rest for you . . . .

A man on two knees as if he were praying
the fire hoses viciously spraying
he sits and watches his life’s work go up in flames
as he maintains the composure of someone sane
His eyes watch intently they fill with water
but the heat dries them out

A corner of a painting he worked on for hours
inflamed flutters slowly to the ground
by his feet he can't help but weep.

He pulls it together and picks himself up
Walks to the back of the fire truck
and washes the gas off his hands
as he sighs in relief

Fresh coffee steams my glasses,
for one foggy moment
the crash of life is forgotten

outside
birds peck for hidden treats
and drizzling rain promises
yet another spring

while inside
I wait
for miracles of understandings
but my canvas remains empty

the rain comforts barren thoughts
coffee soothes the taste of losing
and those birds peck my brain

where are the bells
maybe the rusted chimes will know
perhaps it's not my turn again

I'll wait

I beg indulgence in posting 1 poem in 3 forms. I will make amends by not posting tomorrow.

I watched the woods return to sleep
there in the wooded hollow deep
yet for some reason I still stayed
at my post next to a grown up glade.

All save the stars was pitch black
and the wind had become slack
due to lack of any light
Details in the world were slight.

Life was hushed, if there at all
not even insects' slightest call
alone in a dark silent place.
Was it, perhaps, a mere preface?

At nineteen you were still a child
hopping off to an aggrandised war
filled with romantic and exuberant air

At nineteen you travelled over the channel
to Mons, by the Belgian border marching
there receiving the horrors of humiliated retreat

At nineteen you went missing
first in Dublin taking leave without permission
now in France and sought for desertion

At nineteen you were a fugitive
hiding from town to town
filled with fear and personal loathing
without destination, without future