La Poesie

I dream bad dreams in sleep.
They may be mitigated but for their
Carrying over into waking.
No shaking of head nor drowning nor running culls them.
My dreams are poisoned by the unfulfilment I drink.
I sit and hold my head in palm and think.

You release me from my wrongdoings.
When I hold this instrument of ideas
I can give away my troubles to a perfectly white page.
The mind feels cleaner and light,
Oh what peacefulness there is to write.

Schrodinger's Thought

The mind is an opaque box:
Within is the cat,
Without is the lock.
A passer-by may blab and talk,
And merry on with no response
From mulling feline so ensconced.
If so inclined by empathy,
This speaker may end willingly
His diatribe and turn the key
To his companion's unknown state,
And for response attend and wait.
Within the walls the wild gears
Of clanging thoughts will disappear.
The hatch will swing and open up,
Coalescence renders clear,
The cat half live and half corrupt
Turns out to be a pretty pup!

Mona, once my Dear, at the Party

I saw you through shoulders dear.
The mass sprayed loudness,
But I heard your call.
Seated, you were looking up, smiling,
Orb-eyed and mouth wide like you used to do with me.
You seemed excited dear,
Your heart seemed healed.
Who he was I still don't know.
I didn't ask my partner nor say hello
To you. You seemed happy.
Your black lashes fluttered skyward,
And your hair arced to your chest.
Some noiser blocked my view,
I sidled to the left to resume.
You were laughing a sweetness disarming to taste.
I smiled too then took my date's hand and turned away.
I assume you didn't notice me.
I suppose I'll never catch your face again.
the end.

Detox and Departing for College

The hot bronze leapt out of the mold,
Imagining it could be gold,
And to its deft sculptor it told,
"My beauty is mine to behold,
My form's beyond you to control,
I'll decide for myself how I'm rolled."
The decades of weather and cold
Will change my fresh look into old,
I'll require for peace of mind then
To know it was me who had been
My ruler and all around guard
Who, dealt to, played well my own cards.

The hot bronze leapt out of the cast,
Leaving behind what had past,
Remembering his sculptor's remarks
On what could make joints break apart,
And how one defines a good art,
How one should render his duty,
And what in good taste reflects beauty.