A bough

West wind
winding street
a branch
ripped off -
a Mensch
look-alike,
head, arms
body, legs -
dead
yet its torn
corpse
had done
its duty -
it bloomed
in Spring -
it carried
seeds
in Summer -
dropped
its leaves
in Fall -
and
a few years
later
was felled
by the
West Wind.

Futuristic fantasy?

From Edison's talking
via vinyls walking
bits and knots
Blackberry - I phones
Windows - Vista
via floppies to Zunes
blips and blops.
Will future bring
relief to mankind
by being connected
at all times?
Will war finally
be totally erased
by connecting the dots
or you just fire up
your brain - crazed?

Mixed metabolism

Immortal divinities
of human creation
do the animals believe
in animistic amalgamation?

Immoral deities
of hellbent credos
augur the aurochs
of Herculean libidos?

Imposing Darwinism
of happenstance crescence
will not salvage one
from dusty tumescence.

Death wins - every time

Anger revisited
peppers memories
of the one I trusted
in childhood,
but betrayed by
in adulthood.
Yet as death
agonizingly
approaches -
wrath dissolves
into silver sadness.
Mellowing Mnemosyne
erases everything.

T o r n

Torn
between
two
worlds ;
a new
an old
where
is
my
poor
wreathing
and

split

soul ?

Paradise revisited.

Paradise revisited
in January
a garden not remote
but beauty in bare twigs
add a bouquet of mimosas
harbinger of Spring.
Yes, there are tides in Paradise
as well as people
ah, it was a precious moment in time
wishing for all to have a memory
like that to cherish.
To the people of Paradise
a heartfelt thanks.

Once upon ...

In this little village
where people flow
where children grow
where folks die
where poops lie
where life takes
where it wakes
in this little village.

Eggs and meat

In the little village
a lady of mature years
walking with a tote
heavily filled,
but sticking up
the indespensable
a baguette.
A man walking a dog
with a stick
saying to the lady,
"Bonjour madame".
Living in the same
village for more than
30 years -
they still vousvoyez.
Thrice weekly market
is on today -
all the vendors are here,
the man with the horse meat
the egg man with fresh eggs
the eternal bag vendor
various and sundries
clothes offerings -
some practical - some not so
all in front of the town hall
a square where people gather
for about 2 thousand years
except this village is not quite
as old in view but in spirit.
Yet the time of the ages
flows along and generation
upon generation runs through
the veins and the alley ways.
There have been folks
for ... ages and we are all
part of the meat chain.