various poems

Denial.


Morning dread, something said
Last night that should have been
Unsaid, the smell of lonely sex
And an empty bottle under the bed

Sunlight tries to break in through
Tears in tobacco yellow curtains,
Expose dust on dead plants and
Spot of rot on night’s red roses

My conscience troubles me, it’s
The only thing of moral left, if
I wake up without guilt one day
Will I be free to run away?
Morning in Dreamland


My street is a tunnel of
Whispering night that
Sighs-dies as dawn
Sneaks in from the east

My garden’s miasma
Gracefully arises and
Disperses, tears on
Blades of green grass.

The sun gleam reaches
Over a wall, dry morning
Sorrow as a joyous child
Awakes and laugh.
A Dog’s Night.


From a square light on a dark
Tenement building words fell
Hit the street, rolled on dust
Like morning phlegm.


A dog sniffed broken syllables
Licked a few individual letters,
Spat, the heat of lingering anger
Was not to its liking


Looked up, waited for morsels
Of human wisdom to rain,
To fill its starving mind…this
Long violent night.

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A Spare Moment


Inside the green-house
I laid out wizened roses
Heat and the smell of
Dead nature made clear
Not to waste tears on
Infertility, as the beauty
Of dust sparkle in shafts
Of light and dance.
------

Epitaph.


None existence
Is the aftermath
Of death,
Who fears?
The long sleep
When there is
No night.
To be
Never born
Is bliss.
Fear not my
Brother
No evil shall
Touch you.
Life was but
A brief
Interlude on
your way to nirvana



The Pauper

The lame gypsy who begs at the traffic-light
hasn’t got a fucking chance a man so tested
by life’s vagary that even a slum priests look
another way and think of Sunday sermons
and afternoon tea in the garden of the rich
who donate money to his charity. I sense that
behind his inane smile, there is a green of
mockery and deep in his stupid, amber eyes
a burning hate flicker I think he is an angel
who made fun of god, expelled from heaven
dumped on earth and cruelly stigmatized.

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