Covid waltz

Swinging across the globe up and down
lips glued to the dance partners
romance in the spread
numbers climax

Panic such an intense arousal
slipping off a soggy europe
stimulated by all the kissing
in the mediterranean wine pool

A longing from the bowels of the economic giant
stuck in bed winter cloud still passing
covid soup and refrigerated trucks

The music plays
masks are displayed
reruns turn your eyes gray

The dance floor cool
asia sharpens their tools
currency spins and bucks
england turns and turns until it chucks up

A separate airplane

they were free and life was carriable on our backs
the waiters ignored our appeals
as we looked over the variety
our dreams sewn together

solutions that we had calculated
an old friend came to her
brought back a different species of affection
one that honed a new connection

restless husband shocked
tried to choke out the new friend
alas he wouldn´t die
so husband broken, shared his fear

Wife walked away as husband continued to accuse
slowly unpacking their happy life together
and spilling it like organs across the floor
no accuracy in measuring the damage

husband lost looked to the devlish blue sky
questioning it confused and desperate
and it screamed down to the lad
she will never land
she will never land

The class of fear of loss

Limited hungry and pale at the table
waiting for the teacher
for the floods
for the foods

growing into something
resembling the wall plan diagram
looking for table with a space left for us
musical chairs and other rejection based exercises

perceiving a journey of knowledge
that falls off society like deadskin
acceptable adjectives holding the whole mess together
with deep underground climate controlled weather

The lost American

He left patriotism behind
apple pie and buffalo wings
The continent gone
Just a couple of green isles

The simple life
Pride almost squashed
Arrogance drained out
a spring lamb on the plateau

exposed to all the elements
mass producing giant
tubes pulled out
wires disconnected

Now the empty green spaces
will they fill the ashphalt noise
wash away the graffiti and advertising
do you want this small town clean and green?

working for a wage some village north of wellington

flattering the sea and the field

The dog was thirsty living by the sea
only salt water
The apprentice tried to convince me
that the dog was fine
waves came up choppy like it´s thirst

A large house were estranged families congregated
with one another all aiming for harmony
caring wives easily offended
inconsiderate and slow witted husbands confused
by their own jokes

the football game was called off because of rain
yet the picnic went on for us stubborn adults

trying to force rapport on one another
a blind herd of simple humans

My brother the windless day

Brother how far have you walked to forgive
on this life hill grassy rocky incline
for all the gems that you left in your footsteps
what is our bond, what is worthy?

What did it take for others to believe in you?
What did it take for you to believe in them?
Does strength of the heart push you further still
Were you ever so dear and was I ever so dear and true?

Broken continents, two islands north and south
trying to be straight with each other lost at sea
in the middle of the stage 3 human existence
only a few miles to status retirement

And will the bitters of old age be as bad tasting
as the years we never spoke
As the years we lost all connection
As the years we didn´t treat each other as dear

When I shouted, did you whisper?
When I panicked, did you calm yourself?
Was I the storm and you the windless day
I the blizzard you the frost

My own piece of heart shakes me to know you more, to hear you more
My own piece of heart keeps you always
Noble but flawed it continues to adore you
You were my first friend in this existence, a sun by the sun.

Students of life

I spoke to her class of students
As they asked about far off locations
trips across the world full of excitement
Wonderment in their eyes and stretching their voices

My parable was a split boulder
far too big for them to fathom
and too broken for them to behold
the minutes of quiet confusion mended the old shoe

blue laces in that leather
like information through their brains
The psychatrist compared notes with the mundane
No great story could be told

No great metaphor mined out of it all
just sunny sisters and the school bell
Glory can't be easily obtained
when the teacher is but a lost student

Train them on the ways of the world father for we bleed, we were blessed with fertility in the darkest of realms, we were cursed with fertility unable to know ourselves in spite of our offspring.
They come together as rich and as poor, stigmas and judgements a storm.