Sinister

Delicate and faded
 as a Schubert sonata
 she chimed
 into my heart
 adagio of pain
 andante of loneliness
 allegro of strength
 presto of joy
 sweet music from
 a base obligato of neglect

Eaten

 Small
 scarred
 limping and screaming
 she clamps
 a beak
 aortic
 and I
 struggle
 not to
 let my
 self be
 consumed

twenty words

Snow melt from the branch brushes her cheek with tears
Her lips a light blue, she turns to look at me.

Oops

I try to write
 poems that dont rhyme
 but I dont have the knack
 to stop in time

Waiting to travel

Waiting to travel,
 I came upon a
 Versailles mirror.
 frame twisted,
 face smashed.
 Discarded and
 tossed in the
 Poteau landfill.

 A little attention,
 some re-assembly;
 a revision of love
 let everyone see...
 Solid iron, and strong!
 And a face so polished!
 Crystalline and honed -

arpeggio aura quivering
 like the strings
 of Schubert’s piano.

 No jag of glass,
 no broken shard
 drew trace or drop of blood.
 Not even a scratch.

 And no cry of pain
 did it cost me.
 I can not recall
 the last time
 that joy came
 so free.

Just another blue lady

It is a rainy night
 and i didnt see her
 come in
 but I feel the sprinkle
 as she shakes
 her cool cyber coat
 look up
 and see her
 rakish 50s hat
 Curious backtrack
 shows where
 she should be
 wrapped in solid felt
 thick armor cloth
 but she drapes herself
 in elegant phrased
 Coco Chanel
 and glinting silver
 earrings of anger

Beatitudes

    for Bea, obviously

Trite hackneyed cliche
 often come to play
 for the simplest
 of reasons
 it fits
 There's a finger
 of truth inside
 the simplest cliche
 like you are in me
 and I am in you
 (stop wriggling!)