the unread book

a flower, a branch, a bird, a cloud a book not to be read aloud a life that passes in an hour a winding stair in a ghostly tower a laughing child, a shuddering sage the dream of a forgotten age a lizard on a moss grown crypt a poem in an unknown script o wanderer, the day is done look as the disappearing sun casts a light on the darkened sea for what has been will no longer be what has been written will not be read the living will no more mock the dead the rain will fade into the sand and darkness hold all in its hand

education of a cad

once there was a maiden fair  who spent her life in a morris chair  and when she heard the clock strike three  and saw it was still not time for tea  she ran her fingers through her long red hair  miss jocelyn jones had never been kissed  so she became a satanist  when she met the lord of the flies  and listened to his lies  his advances she did not resist  prudence peters was detected  disrespecting the family by whom she was protected  and so they turned her out of doors  amid the winter's harshest roars -  with sin her path soon intersected  * but of all the melancholy tales of trusting and betrayed females  there are none so sweetly sad  as of those whose who met a certain cad...  the honorable charles st charles, of cheltenham and bath  through the ladies cut a swath like a louche latin or lustful turk  he made of maidens much short work  and filled the highways, roads and lanes  with cast off kates and jilted janes  of such behavior from a son  of civilized christian albion  what can one do but sigh? and turn a chastened eye  toward heaven's sorrowed gaze  and hope and pray for better days...  the honorable charles had his detractors  who thought him the worst of malefactors  but had his sympathizers too who thought eve's daughters deserved their due  of blame for tempting the poor lad  spawn of a drunken sire and mother quite mad  orphaned indeed before the age of ten and early taken up by sporting men  even as a smooth cheeked lad  there was a certain way charles had  of always seeming to acquiesce  in anything his fellows pressed  upon his burgeoning consciousness  sometimes more, but rarely less  he would nod polite approval  and never ask for the removal  of any new or old temptation  and with little contemplation  allow himself to plunge headfirst  into each appetite or thirst...                                               *

outlaw blues

an outlaw is always on the lam from society's total scam he gets it while he can waiting the day when he faces the man another doorway, another night dreams interrupted that never take flight a junkshop of memories, mostly bad mom and jack daniels, with their smiles so sad over the river the smile of dawn taunts the outlaw to get it on the man is sleeping, in his penthouse high and the outlaw is left to wonder why someday, in a shining hour the man will come down from his tower to face the outlaw's wrath at the end of his heroic path but when - when - when? the sun is rising yet again the outlaw stretches and blinks the bottle beside him winks "though the way be long and cold and my dreams get a little old o friend so faithful and true what would i do without you?"

tears of a clown

my tears flowed like wine because you said you'd not be mine and then they flowed like cheap champagne because you caused me endless pain they flowed like seltzer water because you were the devil's daughter they flowed like chamomile tea because you meant the world to me i scanned the darkening skies above dreaming of eternal love desperately searching for a sign that you would finally be mine alas, alas, my dream came true now i can only say to you i hope the times of sad regret are ones that we can both forget

frankie and johnny: a villanelle

frankie pulled out her gat her eyes were pools of hate johnny put on his hat don't look at me like that johnny saw it was too late frankie pulled out her gat on the window sat a cat silent and placid as fate johnny put on his hat you dirty stinking rat you was always second-rate frankie pulled out her gat why don't we have a chat our differences are not so great johnny put on his hat a breeze wafted through the flat "you had your chance to be straight" frankie pulled out her gat johnny put on his hat

modern age

this is the modern age so they tell me anyhow things used to be one way but they are different now how fortunate we are to live in these bright times when the burning fires of truth have devoured history's lies how terrible the darkness in which poor humans lay farewell to folly's shadows hello to bright new day i hope that none among us dwell fondly on the past now let us all march forward for we are free at last

nature's way

see how the little seagull floats over the stormy sea see how the little termite devours the mighty tree see the little mosquito spread oceans of disease as in the river's placid flow the crocodile take his ease see the platoons of scarlet ants munch whole sugar plantations and the humble tsetse fly devastate human nations see the smiling monkey slowly peeling a pomegranate as wind and wave and eternity erode the spinning planet