Saturday, September 15, 2012

4 poems

as luck would have it…

having fallen again, call it denial, call it a river of love, rushing by…

love may conquer all
but pathologies always win
over-riding romance
with one bold stroke
of bloodthirsty genius

all those devastatingly handsome vampires
refusing to suck your blood
he-bitches craving God’s mistaken race
half in love with fairies

as luck would have it
he met him so close to a full moon
but not close enough
just a sliver, a French tip of desire

and if there is a man up there
he is dying slowly of a joking heart
having come to terms with the last lunar eclipse
that left him in the dark


two defensive strokes / one haiku

hand guns called his name
slipping into simile
like razors into veins

this was not a suicide note
just a jagged love poem
longing for another waltz

lyrical weapons
designed by moths to shade them
from the jaded light


Oranges & Roses (five pretentious stanzas)


the pretentious sentimentality of the clouds
hovering over us
rain, sleet, snow, obstructing horizons
causing thunderstorms to cower


the pretentious sympathy of the very poor
rationale behind the strategies some rich people
employ when they describe their personal ideology
on charitable behaviour


the pretentious packaging of oranges and roses
in the snow - like Queen Anne and her naked slave boys
dying dark against the frigid whiteness
as they dance for ghosts


the pretentious way of suggesting
Queens had any real power
over the colonization of birthing bodies
and inviting Pocahontas for tea


the pretentious desire to take a road trip to Virginia
just to see whether they sell snow globes  
of a famed ‘Indian Princess' and her mis-taken Cowboys
the beloved, savage, civilization of global tourism

oranges & roses eaten among            


gun control   (three cozy palindromes)

snug guns


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