Poem 56

 seven years gone

our northern star

galaxies of exuberance

our love never ends

dancing, dancing with abandon

like a pixie

dream baby dream

of new zealand

a spark, an intention

in intercontinental letters

a promise, a future

cut short

stories of dresses and skirts

asymmetrical coats

in your patio

filled with tulips

overlooking the river

late at night, or was it dawn?

you too had a patio

and you both

the brightest of us

with that smile,

yours and hers

of joy and wonder

she was pure in heart and soul

you were mischievous

and a tease

wild too you both

35 minus 7 is 28

too long, too close

h broke the news

she brought them

scribbled from afar

no, it cannot be

why? there is no why

i bite my pillow

someone wrote

on my notebook

nothing matters

in the face of death

but it does, doesn’t it?

your drums, muffled

her heart, not beating

alive in us

the message board reads

“they are dead” but,

by now, you have met

and i bet, like each other

Poem 55

you have my brother’s name and my grandad’s smile

he’s your dad, isn’t he?

in the tree lined street a lady passes by

a gate on her way to the garage facing the sea

to meet her lover

like charles, her offspring saw mary

at a party, never wanting to leave her

but he must, for playing antony and cleopatra

with mary would defy the deities, convention and belief

and like cleopatra in a tiny locked room with antony and

caesar, mary must pretend she does not know him

seasons went by, wrinkles appeared

the lover now old and forgetful no longer recalls

those days

when her offspring, on his way to school

passed by the gate

behind which, unknown to him

little mary played with her rubber duck

so close, so far away, at the same café table

for convention must be uphold

charles and mary talk, as if nothing was

Poem 54

for those who’ve taken the blows of life

the white leather couch of memory

resembles a long forgotten

soft landing of safety

even when replacing

someone missed

wrapped arms offer unconditional love

kept a secret, broken in 00s

enticing with sound wonders

behind a palace of glass

nearly revealing an old promise

of unspoken trust

vanquished temptation

trackmarks of sorrow

framed in a black and white picture

hanging on the wall

sheltering decades long feelings

still standing, still performing

still carry on living

from a night of much

after lights fading on the hallway

one step of a time

hands reaching almost too far

to the present where bliss

is for one

and a web of dark green to the other

now, so, so far from being upstanding

the trail of a hurricane moved east

away from field recordings

and streams of car lights

hidden from the wife and boys

with a perfect fifth girl

who never missed a chord

from here, it all seems disastrous

such a waste, my love

Poem 53

october wind, muted pain

dripping, dripping

red clots on the floorboards

i have no favourites, i really don’t

you claim

but in fine print

you always choose a few

when the ordeal was over

my parents went to pick up my clothes

and i never went back

to the longed warmness

in truth unexistent

a mirage

flying high

800 miles per hour

a vertical takeoff

thundering through the sky

nothing on land

mum and child

long gone

it’s life, i know

and your baby is grown up now

she found peace

and solace in dancing

whilst you still tour around

looking to find

a place to belong to

by the river you tried to settle

even if i’ve taken you out

sightseeing mason wonders

and see you soon

you whispered

on a rainy night embrace

with old songs holding us 

so far,

restlessness and fear own

Poem 52

my green-eyed mercurial boy

wanted nothing but a nice place

and a woman

in turn, alluring boys took him

on the road to perdition

in his brain wires got crossed

broken leg, football, trans am

couch rest, sunny days and a baby

eveningly, like an angel

a nightingale sings him a lullaby

protecting a gentle soul

from the ashes of excess

self destruction turned

poetry and hope

on a downward spiral

i’ve met a girl

my numbness

rushed us under my roof

of misery and resignation

my regret a nightmare of aches

desiring the one i love and lost

for my will strong was not

to be sensible and tell her

now, in this limbo of pills i exist

walking on a tightrope

of sanity and madness, a slope

at every corner of my uncertain feet

getting up is a struggle for

starving barking demons

mercilessly face and corner me

in my sleep, in daylight i see her

the one i love and lost for strong i was not

Poem 51

 oh Andy, do you remember

those days,

in the Lower East Side,

1975

how every morning

in a flowered patterned skirt

and rainbow strappy sandals

i would arrive

at the letterbox

avoiding a pool of piss, spunk, blood

escaping used condoms and

discarded syringes for a day’s work

at the vinyl shop?

upstairs, asleep, creatures of the night

pale and thin dreaming of the next fix

whilst across the road

vendors of flesh took their coffee

or was it firewater?

preparing to withdraw

until the shadows returned

for one more night shift

as we danced on the trendy bars

drinking expensive red wine

laughing and eating cake

like marie antoinette

ignoring the real issues

ours and theirs

but it was bloody good fun, wasn’t it, Andy?

Poem 50

the skinny big-eyed girl rode the visual poem bicycle

on the 66^th road of the path of life

towards the scenic views of the cafeteria

where the sign of the zodiac met the arrow of fate

a grief-stricken flashboy dancer from the desert

with an award in heartbreak

upon the roof kids talked of love lust friendship

and the sorrow of frail gentle minds

over the bridge the passing lady in a red coat

asked the sound of waves in a pool of water

to take her photo, a moment of bliss to calm

the inner turmoil of a child lost by force and anger

in his moment of delusion life, like rubber in asphalt

melted sticky ugly, a burned down spiral

of a digger on the depths of fear

the shaking french sailor pompom, uneven on dry land

77 days away the singer’s soundless voice gone

for a walk in suburban wilderness

destiny unbroken rules maintained drawing circles

of hell in paradise infinite eights carried door-to-door

by the baker who praises mauve daisies to dancers

whistle a crying baby’s undisturbed sleep

comes to her senses, but not so

my bass guitar ungently weeps, talking me out of

emptiness, looming large the giraffe mutters lies and truths

for elise tired of waiting took off with a blonde jester

unsuitable for love drowning her misery in weeds

a still unlived live forever captured in raw umber