Poems

an easy trick
to hate on Dick
and thus to signal virtue
it surely cannot hurt you
it comes so easily, this trick
for those who've never done dick

days in daisy chains
sameness permeates
with their stale remains
and forgotten dates
chains, unbreakable
pulling me along
time, unshakeable
calendar, my song

were it up to me
each day different
some a jubilee
some vociferant
some lived quietly
without incidents
some improbably
by coincidence

days in daisy chains
what an almanac
trains stay in their lanes
there's no going back
had I but a pass
to the other side
there are none, alas
nowhere left to hide

Author notes: To the rhythm of Ochi Chernie https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfXVBzWA9po

realpolitik
means letting statistics
become tragedy

unmoved by shredding ties that bind
by flesh made polyester
by widows crying themselves blind
by wounds that gouge and fester

unmoved by frightened lullabies
by tear stained mother faces
unmoved he is, Lord of the Flies
by children, wearing braces

When heavens weigh upon the land, the clouds a lid
upon a spirit trapped by trouble and despair
horizon disappears, as if it has been hid
the sunlight cannot pierce the gloom, though it is there

When earth is but a dungeon, humid, dark, and deep
and hope, a besieged bat, afraid to take to wing
and beating at the cave's sharp, grungy walls, so steep
and pockmarked, rotten roof, to which its brethren cling

When rain comes down in solid sheets that bar escape
thus trapping us in prisons common to our kind
repugnant spiders plot and weave, their cobwebs drape
the tenebrous recesses of a desperate mind

When bells wake up in a cacophony of sound
and send their anguished howling to a heedless sky
and hopeless spirits, slumped, feet dragging on the ground
are moaning through their grievances, they know not why

and hearses, moving slowly, absent dirge or drums
parade their tearful grief through my forsaken soul
and Hope, collapses, crying, and all feeling numbs
and having won, Dread raises flag upon its pole

Author notes: Quand le ciel bas et lourd pse comme un couvercle Sur l'esprit gmissant en proie aux longs ennuis, Et que de l'horizon embrassant tout le cercle II nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits; Quand la terre est change en un cachot humide, O l'Esprance, comme une chauve-souris, S'en va battant les murs de son aile timide Et se cognant la tte  des plafonds pourris; Quand la pluie talant ses immenses tranes D'une vaste prison imite les barreaux, Et qu'un peuple muet d'infmes araignes Vient tendre ses filets au fond de nos cerveaux, Des cloches tout  coup sautent avec furie Et lancent vers le ciel un affreux hurlement, Ainsi que des esprits errants et sans patrie Qui se mettent  geindre opinitrement. Et de longs corbillards, sans tambours ni musique, Dfilent lentement dans mon me; l'Espoir, Vaincu, pleure, et l'Angoisse atroce, despotique, Sur mon crne inclin plante son drapeau noir.

This happened once: the seasons disagreed.
Which one of them was truly made for love?
Unable to resolve it, they proceed
to seek advice from Zeus, who reigns above.

Old Winter said: it's clear, I am the one
wine by the fire-place, can that be beat?
And Autumn said: when trees, touched by the sun
show off their colors, lovers feel complete.

And Summer was so confident, she said:
when coats come off and water makes its splash,
and warmer nights invite you to their bed.
Why even argue, no need to rehash...

And Spring? A no show, though she would be missed.
Grabbed by her lover, stayed behind, and kissed...

Author notes: https://www.audible.com/pd/Myth-Takes-Audiobook/B0CLGTQX3S

Eyes as black as night, eyes full of delight
Burning through my soul, it's my heart you stole
Oh, I love you so! Oh, I fear you so!
It is you I saw, for my tale of woe

You are deep as night, by no random chance
as you mourn my soul, fiery romance
there I see a flame, benedictory
as you burn my heart, claiming victory

No, not sad am I, nor am desperate
You're my alibi, and my thirst for it
All that God has wrought, all He's given me
I will sacrifice, but that flame to see

Had I not seen you, I would not be torn
Would have lived my life, or had not been born
You're my destined doom, eyes as black as night
My fate sacrificed, just for your delight

Oh, that cursed' hour, when I met your gaze
Eyes as black as night, you're so full of spite
Had I only missed, your subsuming blaze
I would live my life, live in happy days

In my fervent dreams, midnight strikes the hour
and my fateful wish, is about to be
waking up I see, night is still in power
no one here to hug, or to comfort me

Author notes: this translation takes a couple of liberties but matches the rhyming scheme and is on the famous song's cadence Очи чёрные, очи страстные! Очи жгучие и прекрасные! Как люблю я вас! Как боюсь я вас! Знать, увидел вас я в недобрый час! Ох, недаром вы глубины темней, Вижу траур в вас по душе моей. Вижу пламя в вас я победное, Сожжено на нём сердце бедное. Но не грустен я, не печален я, Утешительна мне судьба моя. Всё, что лучшего в жизни Бог дал нам В жертву отдал я огненным глазам. Не встречал бы вас - не страдал бы так, Век свой прожил бы припеваючи. Вы сгубили меня, очи чёрные, Унесли навек моё счастие. Будь тот проклят час, когда встретил вас, Очи чёрные, непокорные! Не видал бы вас, не страдал бы так, Я бы прожил жизнь припеваючи. Часто снится мне в полуночном сне И мерещится счастье близкое, А проснулся я - ночь кругом темна, И здесь некому пожалеть меня.

we are lonely flotsam
hurricane tossing us about
this way or that
then, for a moment or two
we are near
some other wreckage
bonded, we float together

then the storm
tosses us apart
and we're alone again
floating above
a deep, dark ocean

Author notes: inspired by Doors Riders on the Storm

streets with no names
homes with no numbers
pictures, no frames
city, it slumbers
where have they gone
reason and laughter
there is no dawn
in the hereafter

I won't forget you, poplar grove
the way your plumage caught the sun
and basking in its treasure trove
you danced until the day was done

the chickadees extolled your praise
the tufted titmouse sang along
and crimson mantles set ablaze
the cardinals revered your song

I won't forget you, poplar grove
the moss under your shade, our bed
as we discovered what is love
and spring itself declared us wed

I won't forget you, no -- I can't!
though other forests roam this land
wherever life may choose to plant
my roots extend a loving hand

The refugee knocked on my door
I didn't want to answer.

Oh, I'll post something on social media;
maybe change my background.

But to actually see them?
Face to face? Listening to their misery?
Seeing the grooves salt stained tears
made in their children's faces?

The horror of it is better experienced
in 4K hi-def on my flat screen TV.

Maybe I'll donate something,
if the charity checks out,
and if I can just do it
on my phone.

But don't come to my house.

they had a race: the egg, the chicken
the audience's pulse did quicken
but in the end the egg did win
assisted by its shape and spin
the chicken did escape the grill
but lost the race -- it was downhill