ASH FLAKES -- 1/4/2006

 

Now I am to write about love achieved

And yet unfulfilled, for the target, somehow,

Tarnished when obtained, a closed show

After so much was promised and little viewed.

 

For sonnets accepted but as a tribute,

As well they were to be, but set aside

Without a further look, and they abide

As brackish water, like chimney's soot.

 

They were forgotten, poems turned flinders

By daily chores and tasks unromantic,

As prose can be, as pages only flicked

 

In a contract, sounding as pedantic

As faculty speeches --- and yet were licked

Black by fire and eaten into cinders.

 

GIVEUPPANCE -- 31/3/2006

 

now every time i see You i feel Dismayed.

it's like i've bled, Exhilaration

no longer to be found, all Enfatuation

spent... as if  never ever 'twas Assayed.

 

now every time i think of You there's Emptiness.

i expect no more, all hope is Gone,

feel again as before, to Spurn prone,

on reality thrown back and wrapt in Numbness.

 

now every time i reach for You, i found Nothing,

nor shadow, nor substance, only the Laughter

of a white swan, trying Her wings...

 

and yet, how beautifully She swings

among the clouds, while i remain the Sifter

of dried sand and watch my life's withering...

 

FREE BOON -- 31/3/2006

 

Once I gave her a flower of blue

To plant within her breast and let grow,

And well she did; her sorrow did allow

Space for the flower to chase away her rue.

 

And it took root and spread anew

Her buds and her twigs, and a bow

Was raised to protect; and a low

Kindly scent to her life was due.

 

At last, it was a tree and bore fruit,

But very strange indeed, not a sweet

Plum or a cherry, not a wan

 

Fig or a berry.   It wore a suit

Of feathers, for the sun to greet

And take proudly flight as a blue swan.

 

APRIL FOOL -- April the 1st., 2006

 

A fisherman draggin' ashore his empty net,

That's what I am, after hours travailin',

My heart tried, my body all a-wet

Of sorrows thousand and hopeless waitin'.

 

Yeah, a fisherman, after years castin'

And rowin' abroad for the ransom that

My life would change, anglin' and baitin'

Until my hands bled; and then I'd squat

 

On that empty beach spanned by empty eyes,

All hope broken shells, yet nought a fish,

A crab, a lobster, not even the smallest

 

Shrimp to chew on, for all my sighs;

And realize then ---- that for a conquest,

Spilt salty blood after an empty wish...