A Street Poet Rambles

It was all a function of the hand, you see? Started the great chemical drama that sent The Baptist out, collecting stars and galaxies whose light is still on the way, sent him out in the first place to render time and space irrelevant, you see? Circles diamonds squares lights in the sky, you see? One minute they’re there next minute gone but I guess that’s all of us in a nutshell. You see?

The Wolf Comes Calling

You were free from sin from the start

a blank page hung out to dry,

The words will come, it’s only just begun

They tell you what, not why

 

Time to do, time to see

time goes on forevermore,

For now you’re just a young man

sweeping up an old man’s floor

Go off into the wild

of the city, paved and unforgiving,

Curse the cold, the heat, the sky

The damned walk among the living

 

White is black, day is night

neither is either/or,

And now you’re still a young man

fighting in an old man’s war

The sun sinks low and twilight lets

the shadows come out to call,

A rustle in the woods? you wonder

Perhaps my ears play tricks after all

 

But then the feeling comes creeping

it’s one you’ve felt before,

And now see you’re an old man

with a young wolf waiting at your door

Doubt

There’s no happily

ever after;

Just hours of drawn

out tedium

Stretched like solstice shadows,

Swallowed screams muted

Muffled by pillows,

And rusty shackles

Emblazoned with

A single

word

behold the statue

mediterranean garden terraces
boil over with streams of ivy;
the natives say the hand that feeds
is bitten by lust and loss

midnight hangs like a curtain
licked by flames of torches bright;
a girl with exotic eyes turns
into a column of smoke and sky

behold the statue!
yours is a delicate thing;
mine, a ton of stone

below us, the sea taps out
a pattern
never to be repeated

***