I long to disappear
I have no strength to fly

fold my wings and dive
deep below the cresting waves

let the rip tide pull me
leaving all anguish
leaving desolation

cradled in cold
no longer weighted
my mind quiet at last.

She had made up her mind,
to be alone,
to cut herself off
from all perfunctory contacts.
He, too, was widdershins,
unwinding the sensations
of disintegration and anti-life.

Neither of them could stand
each other,
let alone the thought - the treason
of growing old
together.

Outsider

Wind violently screams and unsettles the calm
Invisible force powered by a façade of brutality
He steps away from his dream back into reality

Hail thrashes from the sky onto the frozen road
Ocean of grey erodes against the wall of security
He drifts into the void towards unknown futurity

Hooded stranger
Man with no name
Cloaked outsider
Man with no face

Shadowed stranger
Man with no name
Disguised rider
Man with no face

London’s oppressive heat….

Birds they’re all eating dog shit
policemen taking in illegal pay
Politicians set the town ablaze
with things they do and say.

The kids they try to rule the streets
bricks masks and a lot of indignation
But me I haven’t a thing to fear
I’m living safe in my own coruscation.

Continuous noise of sirens wailing
firemen and coppers race to flame
Don’t care if they’re all off jailing
something not someone, is to blame.

ARTERIAL CURE

Alternative tradition implies
What goes up must come down
See the waiting wonders
My aunt in the village
Prepared some medicine
For reducing hypertension
In these times of stress
She collected tree barks
By seven shrines
On seven hills
Over seven nights
From seven witch doctors

The mind should be free
to express views
in poetry or prose
So I always in prosaic dispose.

Don’t worry when it’s
Neither poetry nor prose,

Open a blog and your minds
Garbage therein do dispose

Drive in another nail
sight blurred by sweat-filled eyes
not an inch of dry clothing
drive in another nail

Towel off hot head and face
shade my eyes, look at the sun
..and glance toward the mountains
....wishing I was there

So take a break before the fan
gulp down a bit of Gatorade
I'm getting too old for this heat
I sit to cool off in the shade

Thinking about a mountain river
shaded by the oaks and hemlocks
as well as laurel understory
on the north slope

A tapper had a friend
Himself a tapper too
Into the swamps of Ntong Edong
They went on a tapping spree
Up and down the raffia palms
They called out kukuruku
Kukuruku was the reply
To keep a close contact
One fell from the height
To the muddy wild plant floor
He called out Kukuruku
With speed
His friend came down
To the rescue brief
As communicated
On Sunday testimony
He needed an interpreter
For the guest with foreign tongues
But he volunteered to convey

if my world is a reflection
of my brain/mind
what a mess I must be

shall I aquiesce
or struggle against myself

is there even enough time left
to instill meaningful, discernible change
if I choose the latter

to aquiesce means a continuation
of the status quo
a sloppy house, car,
and certain personal habits;
laziness, relative poverty, mindless routines
yes, a real mess

The silence of a thought
Creeps within one’s mind
Of having been forgotten
By a lone soldier
Once a passerby.

Now so known, in the vast universe
Without time and space restrictions
Bears the burden on one’s heart

Why this intoned silence
We live miles apart
But in each poet's heart
Strings a vein of symphony
And
Then we ease in an admiration
Hopeful perhaps
The one is still remembering,
Albeit!
It’s a hope only