What’s true now was true back when

With a gun you rob a bank,

For a country?

Just a pen


A Coming Fall

I believe I see the first red leaves
Of the coming fall
The summer’s breeze flits in between
A lion’s roar and lull

The winds have cooled and after noon
The sun so early sets
Where mountains loom ‘neath harvest’s moon
This summer night forgets

The fattened bears in turn despair
Should winter come too late
That summer’s gains would thin and wane
Til naught could hunger state

With mother’s love Ma calls her cubs
Into a town at night
Outside the pubs in garbage tubs
She hears old songs of fright

Sweet sorrows bellow from drunken fellows
Drowned in barley’s brew
They dance and dine; their moves divine
No mind for mother’s rue

Outside the songs a chorus kaws!
Dark feathers fill the sky
From high above their forked tongues
Discern the drunkard’s lie

And wait, they wait – they cry the fates
Which mook shall make his end
Then rest in leaves – red, orange, green
Black beaks once meek now grin

The Divorce (1)

These days
the tears fall with grace
The beads
be hallowed seeds
that trace
aged lines
down my face

And all I to see
wet lashes like latticed lace
Fog a future I effortlessly erase

I sit low on my throne
emptied, artificial love
Beggard from giving my heart
to anyone
Who’d hold it tight
for a night
for the time I’d be numb
See it returned depleted
being the cheated one

part 2

you wanna know have i moved on
have you been abandoned
if there is room left here in this void
into which ive screamed and poured
our record; dreams and saviors
all gone, rubbished and stale
miles of emptied railway and highway
between us; its been a ride
but i think it may be time
ill consider coming home


Maybe it’s time
To pick up this pen
I’ve come hard
To empty pages
Begging to be writ
With no words
On my tongue
In my breath
Bereft of motion
For the life severed
Maybe it’s time
To pick up this pen
Welcome the age
Of Incense