Remembering to forget

I forgot to remember

 

What leaves in the morning

returns with the night

 

The past in abeyance

a temporary shelter

 

Embedded in memory

—the wrong and the right

 

(The New Room: June, 2023)

 

The death of tomorrow

rebirthed in stone

Its sculptor blinded

by fear unknown

 

The future vacant

the past denied

Where carved in darkness

—an image cries     

 

(The New Room: June, 2023)

Rearranging discordant thoughts

memories fall in place

Like keys upon a Steinway

awaiting my embrace

 

Sharp notes lead, the flats behind

as I replay the past

Chords when struck connecting all

—in harmonies recast

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

East of tomorrow

west of the moon

A moment in time

too late and too soon

 

Playing a love song

that hides in delight

Calling us upward  

through storms in the night

 

East of tomorrow

west of the moon

Our past and our future

uncouple and swoon

 

Life in that moment

death left behind

The time and the place

—forever defined

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

The White Whale

Atlantis

or Holy Grail

 

Avarice and greed

destruction

prevails

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

Unlocking the vault

invested with pain

 

Its riches long stolen

all value is stained

 

Each bill tells a story

of wantonness greed

 

With truth sold for dollars

whose printing now bleeds

 

Locked up in a winter

of coldness and fear

 

A traitorous fortune

of all you hold dear

 

Its smell tells a story

the mold growing thick

 

Corruption inherent

the air makes you sick

 

Bereft you can’t spend

what you coveted so

 

Before the interment

when sinking so low

 

The cash becomes toxic 

it falls from your hands

 

Its value infected

—insolvent and damned

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

The power of one word

a sentence to shame

Whose meaning suborted

and magic reclaimed

 

Only one syllable

quiets the storm

Where poets can dream

—in beauty reborn

 

(The New Room: June 9, 2023)

From my new novel, ‘Approaching Storm’

 

The winds of war have called again

courage summoned—to befriend

Through evil darkness blowing strong

we face the threatened coming dawn

The writer always

wants to sing

And the singer

wants to paint

The painter fancies  

he could dance

To the dancer

songs conflate

 

The greenest grass

it seldom grows

Where you now

make your bed

As wishes stray

and hopes betray

What might have been

—instead

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2023)

From the sound of the bugle

in the rush of the wind

The bodies are counted

as grieving begins

 

In the morrow replaying

as blood spills again

The enemy forward

whose countenance grim

 

The courage of many

all acting as one

Their wills long suborted

with fear on the run

 

Till the bugle goes silent

the bugler face down

Last day ill remembered

—a wounded dog howls  

 

(The New Room: June, 2023)