The finish line

Each edge of that box
assembled to create the shape of death
a human death
a departure from the earth forever

Inside, the lifeless body makes it's argument
in complete silence
convincing us all that the spirit is at peace
That eternal rest has begun

To where he's gone there's no way back
the love of family and friends must pave that road
every round of laughter, every kiss and hug
a paver on his path to glory

His eyes closed tight, mouth pursed
not a hint of life within that skin
Death shaped in that coffin
People spread petals and prayer
and many species of care
But it remains hard to say goodbye

The four candles of his farewell

The four candles
As solemn guardians completely stationary
Tall and attentive at drawing out the darkness
awake and astute to watch all visitors

unflinching and fiel
never flickering
even when the wind attempts to steal
So true and bold

Those four candles where the eyes of god could dwell
monitoring the mourners as they attempted farewells
To the body of a good man who had already folded
The candle flames so symbolic of our own souls

I tell you the wicks didn't shrink short on that cold day
neither did the wax fall precociously as mourners prayed
As if all was balanced and all debts were paid whole
And the last exchanges were loving ones alone

Two palms touch

It's one of those columns grey and pinstriped
Pale and desperate yet exuding a certain grace
with deeper lines than an old man's face

bulging sections to one single umbrella canopy
Glistening and rustling frond leaves jumping, galloping
inviting the tricky breeze up for a cup of tangle

Just a stones throw from a local jungle
and along the frond where parrots dare
Is where the sun puts in most of it's care
Is where two palms touch to make a prayer

Along the lake of a mind

Share a piece of your fond recollections verbally
And when you are done cut your ears off eloquently
The world can only have so many ideas you without the pencil
I wonder if you can invite the world with a voice so ungentle

Spill your memories, the most whimsical and absurd
Give us more and more reason to acquire each word
Devlish exaggeration more than a tall story ought
And I´ll bring friends whose opinions are easily bought

take a secret or a piece of gossip someone hides
fold it into a paper swan that´ll glide
run it along the lake inside loved one´s mind
Then set it on fire so no one else ever finds it

The one spark may fall, just one
like a vulture hurled to the ground by a hawk
Unable to ignite the paper swan
And it may unfold into a blank piece of paper

Peace becomes the victory in that mind

A pool of it

It's the town museum

It's my mansion,

The paintings have been encased in glass and set into the floor

The shallow indoor pool

And the indoor leopard who kills any intruder


The jewels are set into the walls

Reflecting the sunshine outside

There is no place on earth

whose floor tiles smile as much as these do



The pacing leopard my security system

It's no run down town museum

it's my home humid and ferocious

It's a blessing pools of it

Wink and grin(smitten)

I wonder where you are, fair one with brown skin
Somewhere in my life
Playing your role as my wife
Waiting up for me as I do for you

If I make it to Friday we can snuggle
But each day takes a swing
and honestly the only thing
keeping me fighting them is you

Your wink and grin my darling
a few sparks for the gasoline in my gut
So my arms for you are never shut
and that for you I ever stay willing

I wonder where you are
In such an eccentric city as this
during the long days kissless
I wonder fair one with narrow curls

How much do you long for my way
as I stand there looking at you from the doorway
Dim light surrounding me as I choose you for another night
Your neat alluring modesty curves just right

Fair one of brown skin
Oh how often I feel smitten

( For Maira)

Irony on the hook

Out in the sunlight
ready for the excitement
Everyone is leaving
Everyone is running for the exits

When you return, open the curtains
count the days away
simply feel the presence of your loved ones
For the few precious days

You coming back to them
like a fisherman bringing in dinner
Many search for smiles and sunshine
the world over

Pick up a hook, tie it to the line with bait
Until something bites
down there in the darkness
Overdoing things to fill that bag where faith should be

Rock the boat until you become fish food
Irony and agony frequently speak to you
I have become a dock, a pier, a port even
Steady and protective