don’t tell me your secrets
don’t want to know
can keep my mouth shut
but who needs the temptation
hate when people say
“can you keep a secret”?
keep it to yourself
because I wont give a crap anyway
I probably sound angry
I’m not
just don’t care about your insignificant rants
are we done here?
A straggle of middle-aged men,
instruments spread before them
and their music, one already
lighting a pipe, and the smoke spirals
in front of the flat-capped pianist
at the black piano.
The signal, a private joke,
and when the laughter subsides
the clarinet leads, tentative, wayward,
slowly finding its exquisite way.
Trombones join in, and the guitar,
the trumpet, the sax.
The room itself swayed by rhythm,
each note urging another on,
a melody, and the melody backtracking,
moving from ferment to reflection,
from motion to stillness, it is
everywhere, it is nowhere at all.
The gleaming silver drums,
the musician’s early brush strokes
like the first lingering caress
of a delicate lovemaking. Afterwards
the thunder, the turmoil, the anger
before the hush – and then the song.
The Jazz Man sings. The clarinet
is calm, and the trumpet.
The guitar sits easy on its stand.
The trombones rest, side by side.
Even the seething drums are silent
as the Jazz Man sings.
The sky sheds its
white fur
a flight of creeping
particles
at one time
separating us from
the world- the whole
prisoners wrapped up
in icy straight jackets
as we look out the
window and sigh
We try to warm
our fragile bodies
but feel helpless
against the earth
and its dangers
closed off and
blacked out
we watch and
hope for a rush
of quiet
amidst the storm
The obscure
piercing wind
sounds angry
out there
turbulent, raging
I close my eyes
to stop the
wings of the wind
and the frozen vapor
feeling overwhelmed
and helpless
An open palm descends on back
Dealt with force a hefty smack
Then another just as bad
I’m scared, upset, a broken lad
Stinging skin that’s turned bright red
What goes on inside his head?
For him to hit me quite so hard
Then tell me not to be so mard
The anger in his face so clear
But no way will I shed a tear
The gritted teeth and wild eyed stare
I can’t fight back it’s so unfair
When it stops I’m on my feet
Go to my room, a safe retreat
And only when I close the door
My silent tears fall to the floor
But now I know the signs and when
This scene will play out once again
I’m sorry.
Such simple words.
But I’ll never hear them from you.
You say you’re proud but
Not apologizing is nothing
To be proud of,
Being stubborn and harsh
I nothing to gloat over.
I know I’ll never hear those words
From you, I’m not even sure
You know how to feel them
Or what they mean to others or
Even your own well being,
So I’ll just go my own way
And leave you with your foolish pride.
I notice the bird taking a sip of water.
The lilac just beginning to bloom.
The blue sky.
The door closing.
You clearing your throat.
You taking a walk with your wife, social distancing always in vogue.
The anger in your eyes.
Your wife in her illusion of strength.
My anger.
The bird sitting on the fence.
The owners of the garden
Where the May flower tree
Lives
Want it to last only for three years
But the flower wants to live for four years
The bees argue, vehemently, that the flower
Always had the right to live for four years
‘The reduction is unjust’
They shout
They are punished for that by the owners
‘The flower is stubborn
It should be tamed’
The neighbours don’t mind
How long it lives
Or whether it lives at all
They are eternally annoyed
By all the commotion
Caused by the bees
Over just another May flower
The flower looks bloodier
Than ever
The leading bees are bloody too
That enrages the following bees
The damned flower and the damned bees are both damn stubborn
They must be tamed
‘Take all necessary steps to tame them’
The warrants are thus passed.
around the corner
i saw it
the ransome of death
the tales of evil
the youngman
strong and vibrant
he strive for power
the power fade-off
the two half-brothers
bloodshedding combat
they both end up in killing
the youngman
she fell inlove
a beautiful maiden
from a rich family
she fell
she cried
the firmament heard
he teased her with love
she cried when it appears
how easily she fell
she cursed for love
the love bring loss
can curse bring love?
eye to eye
he geared up
on his feet
he killed the fools
since they want the money
country rulers with there act
all there fight
evil smelt out of the cars
the riffles and black axe
in the night
the hawk
they sniff out black cloud
they die all young
the youngs all dies
they crave for money firmly
they die and end with no smiles
father of murderers
the curse
makes a rail
of destruction
and obstruction
they shower tension
it kills
they mount on fear
it kills instantly
time to stand for what is right
everything is a season
never hate
if you do
you may end up in grave
*Love*
Outdoor situation demands for wrangling
And outcry to flow out hatred and anger
So as to make the situation more thrilling
And thunderous to drop rain from the hanger.
Indoor longs for three characters to role,
Hence, pretends to be deaf, dumb and blind
And boards a boat for the soul to console
And set a voyage in the pacific ocean of mind.
Indeed, a mental tug-of-war is in progress–
The wranglers surrender and indoor wins,
The peace lovers are destined to the addresses
Where they live like the kings and the queens.
Although, half-fed and half-naked they are
Still blissful as they enjoy undisputed days
And dreamful nights and become unaware
Of a situation of tempting their outcry and noise.
