Title: latest trends
wisdom is not a perfume
vision can be hindered by veils
once helpful, now frayed
distorting the initial associations
born from instinct and fear
combed wet into a middle parting
any doubts to be tucked behind
ears that never listen unless
the message comes loud and clear
in the form of song or praise
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Title: Summer School
I am sorry that you are scared
I did nothing but hold your hand
every time you made a mistake
and turned the bad to good
so you were able to learn
but you never did
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Title: Humorism IV
At times I have the patience to pay attention
for longer than it’s deserved; hearing over
all the background noise: canned cries
with a rhythm and blues beat at the jaw
Sip and swallow, wipe and repeat until
there isn’t a moustache; one last sip,
what a mistake to look for comfort
in the most inhospitable of places.
Over the noise, I focus on what this effort
will bring. Time to ask for silence.
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Title: Humorism III
I know I should stand up and move;
to attend callers at the door
bringing correspondence addressed
to someone whose name I know,
whose wistful reflection I’ve avoided facing;
standing still there’s no risk of damaging
anything else, anymore.
I know I should breathe in deeper, steadily;
without fresh air, a single sigh can be as fatal
as the sharpest slice, not always the final cut
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#poet
Title: Humorism II
I try to keep agitation turned down
lulling a temper, taunted and startled;
rejection and ejection caught in
a monotonous loop:
resentment rises surrounded
by amber warnings.
Empty and clean;
a free mouth will speak the truth
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Title: Humorism I
I would laugh
but my humour is off-balance
on my way there I stopped
to smell the flowers
the warm tingle mixed
with dampened prospects
enthusiasm floats
dust and dander
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Title: Zero Value
token
fits in the slot
broken
ready to boycott
hyper-vigilance
but never prepared
where are the instruments
a little scared
unfinished fix
forever destroyed
weekend politics
nasty tactics employed
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Title: Fitful
How ugly, your panic brings mayhem.
You hide at the top of the tallest mountain:
roofed shelter fit for one; those you invited in
will have to crouch and contort into shapes
already decided for them.
This protection is not enough to withstand
the ramifications of a defeated totalitarian administration:
there’s a roof, but no walls. The roof is made of silver.
Safety and security are spotty beliefs:
clustered rash, contagious.
Under the roof with no walls, at the top of the mountain,
you’ll struggle to find a pharmacy.
No one can cure you while they’re struggling
into position to be ready, when you say, when you want:
when the lightning storms pass.
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Title: Sci-Po
She investigated how to clean the ducts:
she will need corrosive chemicals
and a restricted-access robot, along
a custom tool kit to work with screws
unable to hold together
blueprint, by another hand
production line, one after another after
another.
Before acquisition of the goods, she will have to
scrimp and save, not for a little gun this time;
to scavenge from the mountains of trash hiding
not the luxury of treasure but the necessity
for a livelihood without further degradation
corporate constitution, blue and black ink
BLOCK CAPITALS
in triplicate (triplicate) (triplicate)
mouthful (.) silenced through tricks
tiny.
Title: martian breeze
walk away before you break your face
a second time
the bridge of your nose is red enough
from trying to believe in healing pressure points
walk away without anger or fear
knowing everything you know
it’s something long overdue
why do you hold onto railings that won’t save you
when the wind blows
why not accept and let go
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CedeRed 