Sunday, July 5, 2009

Ash is ash!

She didn’t walk a golden mile
or embrace a new found love
but wandered down the avenues
of a past long dead and gone.

Trees interlocked and canopied
her feeblemindedness
while the grass underfoot
gave way to barren ground
for ‘tis the feeble of mind
that must walk on hardened ground
until the dead and gone
sits on a burning pyre.

She watches in the twilight
the flames of her repeats
and how the smoke encircles
a love not come again
to pull it closer, nearer, in
the flames of other things.

The heat melts composure
and she kneels by the fire
a woman paying homage
to the dead and gone.

She doesn’t rise on steady feet;
there’s still a part of her long past
she would again repeat
but she knows, yes, she knows
ash is ash and can’t again
be more than it is!

Thursday, July 2, 2009


‘tis the silence of the night
and the din of broad daylight
that spins like lottery tickets
in the flow of normal life.

Round and round, up and down,
and this flow like living cycles
that leaves a gambler waiting
palm up for destiny.

First prize gone, second, third,
and the gambler makes a fist
in stark disregard
for what may follow next
and so what could have been
slips from gamblers to the floor.

There the prize that could have been
joins the junk of what is now
and the gambler in the midst thereof
unable to see the sun
or the beauty of the night.

‘tis in this gap of destiny
that gamblers stand uncloaked
and listen to the sweet refrains
of the plain and simple nothing.

The plain and simple nothing
no prelude to a ball
but gamblers know to listen
until thought bursts forth and motivates
a new mind reality!