A collection of various poems I have written:
In wandering…
Before us lie meandering
ways. I, a tragic hero, travel
in dark forests where lives unravel
Across the green, luck is pandering
to me, in castles, clothed in purple.
In aspen woods, newly white,
my paths diverge in fractals with mine
and twist and turn with thine.
Yet, the air ahead fogs my site
down these trails, like dark alleys
leading from sunny summer valleys
and days cast in silver light.
Yet every yellow brick road
leads not to Oz’s abode
but Charon’s dock.
“But a Genocide”
A Sonnet for Darfur
I was a simple man,
A child of Uncle Sam
Striding along Armageddon’s Plains
Were monsters out of nightmarish lanes -
I saw acts of terrifying fright,
A darkened world unknowing light
The masked men labour and leaving
In their wake, Tribes of Women grieving
For they are worse than dead
Among the Hellish fires and bullets of lead
The Huts and fields explode.
Children destroyed as they rode
They cry for Peace,
for Uncle Sam,
my heart,
and me,
but a Simple Man.
Us, In the Mirror
A silent ever raging beast,
with gaping gnashing gnawing jaws,
whose smelly drool drips from its maws
on eyes who fear for its fast feast.
its roar… does whimper in the night
In a mammoth manifold march
on top of vast fields of hands and feet,
down eons old and deathly larch,
through swamps of sallow sickly meat.
it is the god of petty sight
Its claws are swords and knives of men
bewildered; … duplicitous eyes
in fear of craws that spaketh lies
from Hades depths, from Beasties’ pen.
Snow
Its light and airy, cold as ice,
and falls in grace to mortal mice.
as do the frigid angels fall
to rest upon a weighty shawl
Poet’s frost does brush the cheek:
a chilling kiss, so mild and meek
in pureness – white – and small in size
and drifts to lay before his eyes
It doth destroys in paling art -
an elegant and icy heart
that’s stilled in silenced sound
and buries gophers’ shadow mound
