Salt lick temptation
lures that dangle,
camouflaged darkness
masks and blinds
Easily captured
when most attracted,
flypaper memories
—trap and bind
(The New Room: November, 2021)
Salt lick temptation
lures that dangle,
camouflaged darkness
masks and blinds
Easily captured
when most attracted,
flypaper memories
—trap and bind
(The New Room: November, 2021)
The last day of vacation,
you told me things had changed
The last day of vacation,
each word seducing pain
The last day of vacation,
a new look in your eyes
The last day of vacation,
unveiling your disguise
The last day of vacation,
your back to turn away
The last day of vacation,
our future gone astray
That last day of vacation,
the sun had left the sky
That last day of vacation
—hello became goodbye
(The New Room: November, 2021)
Tin cup of criticism
hollow and blue
Empty aspersions
poison the brew
Its venom unasked for
distilling in pain
Opinion left rancid
—acidic and vain
(The New Room: November, 2021)
In judgment we are sentenced…
its verdict zero-sum
(The New Room: November, 2021)
Poetry…
an endeavor of disturbing
contradictions
A recording of restless
anticipations
—and lasting treasure
(The New Room: November, 2021)
Winning and learning
or
losing and dying
a choice made
exclusive
—the moment undone
(The New Room: November, 2021)
The magnitude of ignorance
staggers beyond
the scope of imagining,
a weakening throng
The danger of assumption,
its hard biting edge
empowers deception
shoved over the ledge
The vacuums of denial
we fight to defend
are lost in the moment
pushed out to the end
This emptiness we carry
and knowledge we fear
footnote our destruction
—as fools shed a tear
(Rosemont College: November, 2021)
Cloning the emperor,
assuming the throne
knighted impostor,
unregally grown
With hell for a kingdom,
his scepter ignites
flames burning memory,
a mirror’s delight
The queen held for ransom,
a prince in his bed
jester on fire,
all subjects rebled
A rival approaches,
the bishop a swan
his guillotine royal
—beheaded in song
(Beaupre: November, 2021)
Fear,
a dark hunter
that preys on our doubt
Chasing us
into
—a lost horizon
(Dreamsleep: November, 2021)
Is anything more memorable
than a smell
With eyes fully closed,
sound not forthcoming
Paralyzed fingers,
devoid of touch
Starvation filtered hunger,
taste denied
What could be more memorable
—than a smell
(Dreamsleep: November, 2021)