So fast, the fizzling flames have set afire
A fuse, whose tandem strands ignite, entwined —
A fluid yellow flame envelopes both,
While follow smoldering crimson points, aligned.
Diffuse, the fire flickers as it fly —
In wind, though it cannot follow every gust —
From brightest flare till almost it expire,
Yet winds its way down spiral twine on trust.
The twin red tips yet never stop their growth,
Illumining, though faintly, through the flare,
With warmth, fate’s hearth that would confound the eye
Which wonders, blinded less by black than glare:
How closely are these flaming fuse strands tied?
Two, one too soon, might never coincide.
Reluctant Troubador
He who says that love can't be unrequited
Never was so soothingly spited, never,
Pining, sought delight in whose arms would ever
Spurn, yet invite him.
Freshman Flirtation
Were my life a sheet of music paper,
I could live and love and never know that
Love is won, or so it seems, by caper.
Hell, all that's won could be capers below,
To see these players dressed as referee!
Would I could live and love and never know
Sublime foregone for puerile chivalry.
I'd much rather have my concert blacks
Than see these players dressed as referee.
If I could play my life just like my axe,
It would cast me as more golden kid than prude,
But I'd much rather have my concert blacks.
Should I embrace frivolity eschewed?
To play my life as if it were a game would
Cast me as more golden kid than prude.
Yet,
Supposing that the outcomes were the same,
I'd rather play a game that seemed like life than
Play my life as if it were a game.
Were my life a piece of music paper,
Speaking love would not be seeking strife,
But love, or so it seems, is won by caper;
I'd rather play a game that seemed like life.
Listing after You.
Lists to do and lists that won't get done,
Lists for crossing out, lists for fun, lists to
Try. Here I've begun listing sighs; I list you.
1. You are listless.
New Wave
Floodwaters yellow
From the muck on the bottom,
Stopped behind a dike,
Churn below.
There's flotsam underneath the wave —
None know.
Sandbags soaked in a spasm
After each wave strikes
Its pervasive blow.
Eddies combined get freedom
For the water
Is depraved.
With the new flood flow,
You will gasp, unknown the reason.
Barbie School
I go to Barbie school,
Skin-tight, one size fits all.
The bosom of my brain
Must fill the bra, not one
Iota more. Contort
Creative curves! Conform,
Contort, and stifle: fill
Those goody-two-shoes,
One size too small, and smile
A never ending smile.
Triumph to conform,
For life's a game of rules:
Leave artfulness aside,
Success lies for intelligent fools.
Glass Doors
Glass doors can close without warning.
You can close glass doors without warning.
Glass
Doors can close,
Without warning. You
Can close glass
Doors
Without warning. Glass doors
Can close without
Warning. You can close
Glass
Doors without warning.
Ode to Red Roof Inn
Denounce I for absent fridge and 'wave;
For well advertised wireless internet, and
Badly advertised premium; for sneezes
Snuz and wheezes whuz to Kleenex yet
Without the dignity of box or brand;
For omitted stationary; for sinks
Put inside baths, and soap that, washing, shaves one;
Oh motor inn! Your sticky bar soap stinks.
Shampoo for one? And which, a portion sleazy
In a packet hostile when wet, containing
British poison ivy, leaves the strands
(Those, unrent by rinse, it leaves remaining)
Of hair dry as if washed with the clammy bar soap!
I say down with your inn. Forsooth, I hope:
May your ink bleed redder than your roof!
