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Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Margaritaville Choked to Death on Pink Umbrella Drinks

I lived
on an island
one glorious winter
and reveled in
the snow and the sand.

In Spring, the tourists came
like ants but not
to a picnic.

By the first day
of summer, they had
stripped the carcass
to the bone.

in its smallness

It's easier for some kind of fish to find food than others. Easier for some people to breathe, than others. Millions of "watchers" in the sea, but ony a handful of see-ers to go around. A single fish, swimming by itself, never looks over its dorsal fin. A single fish, looking for a mate, is netted. Like a patch of warm water in the sea bottom, magically self-contained in the palm of your hand. Where dimension loses meaning. And even the whale shark, the biggest fish of all, has to breathe sometime. It's gills pulsing, attracting his prey. And a single fish swims by, like a giant, omnipotent in its smallness.

The Last

They  say
I am                        the last of the lettered
They say
I am                        the last threat
They say
They are coming
                                                          what                         They say
                                                                                will be all that remains

Scintillating is Delicious

Scintillating is delicious, as words go.
And it melts like smooth rich chocolate so
The word itself, though not the meaning,
Can get my salivaries streaming
With the succulence of its linguistic flow.

And in like ways does my lust grow
For those tasty letters that do blow
Into such words as glitz and gleaning.
Scintillating is delicious

So, I on you do these words bestow
In luscious French forms like this Rondeau,
To taste, to savor, with a light tongue teasing
The so many words so lasciviously pleasing,
Whispered with purring across our pillow.
Scintillating is delicious


Just beneath the silver sky
Shredded clouds go flitting by

The crow glides past, then the hawk
They know it’s on Death’s door you knock

You the little mouse we’re mourning
You who offered us no warning

The world cut deep, so you cut deeper
Deep enough to greet the reaper

With skin quite thin you covered well
The bone frame of your empty shell

No heart, no mind, and now no shame
Since you’ve left all of us the blame

Just where did you think that you would go
Once your blood had ceased to flow

We would not be waiting there
To hear you moan of your despair

You wrote that you could just not find
The happiness and peace of mind

That you imagined we all had
Because we did not sound as sad

But fool you were and fools we too
So the last word you wrote is our last adieu

Stolen Innocence

Innocence is stolen. In dead of night.
Trusted friends and family unaware of my plight
Truth will be told brought to the light
My anguish revealed
Innocence is stolen.

Innocence is stolen. In dead of night.
I am not believed
No one believes me
They all prefer the lie
Innocence is stolen.

Innocence is stolen. In dead of night.
The child I once was gone now away
Forever departed stolen away
Truth, Anguish was revealed but none was believed
Whom can I trust now In myself I must believe
Innocence is stolen.

Winter Funeral

All around me people cry,
Hear the birds that fly in the sky,
The snow blankets the earth like mold,
Making the wind blow cold,
As we must, say goodbye.

Sadness, I can’t deny,
Bites me like a mad horsefly,
My heart feels like it’s been sold,
And all around me, people cry.

One day we all must fly,
Fight, to the last battle cry,
A hand of cards we must fold,
And look to the light that shines gold,
With the birds in the sky,
And all around me, people cry.