Where did they go
The days of lonesome bliss
When solitude was a priced jewel
Sought after with the yen of a thirsty deer
Looked forward to with the eagerness of a hound
When focus on goals
Impelled self-isolation
When the paradise of empty spaces
The serenity of loneliness
And the company of the self
Were akin to a masseuse’s therapy
To a body sore and sapped
Where are the days of meaning
Tag: the caged bird sings poetry
The City
A swallowing
A disappearance
Like of some prey into the insides of the predator
Or of a needle into a bale of hay
It’s the image my mind conjured
The persistent one that still materializes
Whenever I picture a journey into the city
Revere
Wine
Crackling fire
Music
You
The night gets on
Time stops not
But you
You gotta stop
Just for the night
Line ’em thoughts
Of the empty full house
The empty busy street
Creation’s unfathomable grandeur
Line ’em thoughts with the crackle of the fire, the music, the wine
Revere
The Itch’s Longing, The Hand’s Wile
The hand has the itch on a leash!
When the Great Tree Falls…
From her cup of knowledge
I drunk
Her steady, inspiring guidance as my walking stick
I trudged
By the lampstand of her tender, loving firmness
I learnt
On her nourishing foresight and insight
I throve
Out of the trenches of unknowing
She pulled me
Up The Hill
Images in your mind
Of ants building anthills in the savanna
A thousand times bigger than themselves
Phantasmagoria
Of a steady meek stream of water
Slicing through mighty rocks
Your eyes travel
Up the hill
O Come, Spring!
Oh come oh come spring Come your smiles to bring With your equating times our doorbells ring Come your brother to relieve so cold and quietening That flowers may bloom, and birds sing Come that layers may be forgotten and on your warmth our lives to hinge That our lives and land may be renewed…
A Lioness, and a Dove
It’s a girl the physician announces
Shrieks of ululation break through the silent halls
Three, four, five, the audience counts
Six? It’s a wonder
She’s a wonder
A lioness, and a dove
A Poem for New Year
Like a blank page,
Untampered with,
Unwritten on,
Clear as crystal,
Yet hazy as a psychic’s prediction,
Like a gift waiting to be unwrapped,
But peeling itself away each second,
Mirage of Togetherness
Heavy in the chest a heart races
Disobeying the force of will a pair of eyes pursue
Bend after hairpin bend a hunt ensues
The one loses the other before either ever belongs
The Caged Bird Sings 