Each New Year

Each New Year
wishes are made,
where do they go
all these wishes?
Do they meet:
collide
and swirl?
Do they shimmy together
like molecules
or like bounce
from one
to the other
like a front row?
How do you know
your wish isn't out there?
Dancing and swaying...
Out all night...

Death of a baby girl

Beholden onto you
are the dreams that fly away

High End

An art tart

Jean-Michel Basquiat, "Riding WIth Death" (1988) --- oil

or 

exploited?

Died in

vein

or then again
Same

by choice?

His voice 

scratchings on walls

and painted words

hatching moments

of disbelief

and grief 

Primitive by nature

dancer 

with death

and meth 

Means something

to me

this art martyr

pop hearter

The essence of his meaning 

bought and sold
Old 

High 

end 

God

God is a concept
by which
we measure
our
pain

John Lennon

Fathomless

The deepest part of the bottom of the ocean
what chooses to live there?
Despair?
That one day it shall be gone
Unbeknown...
Live!
Like you're the deepest part of the ocean
and see
part of you
and me
and all others
and all things
Then - perhaps!
we will truly find...
What chooses to live
at the depths of you
and the depths of me
at the bottom of our oceans
and the floors of our seas.

War & Peace

Blue Landscape
Marc Chagall 

Is it normal to fear?

When you’re just over there -

so far away

in my living room.

It’s so tight inside this burden

It’s so light inside this tomb

You’re Hypocrisies

with skull in hand

How do we demand

Answers?

Not regrets!

With History

It’s a matter of fact

And chilling that

It’s so light inside this burden and

So tight inside this tomb 

And still I fare thee well

Day by day

Hour by hour

Second by second

Roaming

Combing

through each bittersweet moment

“You’re timeless”

You say…

Suburban Silence

Marc Chagall

In the suburban semi silence she sat

Half numb

Half trying

To remember

The sounds

Of something forgotten

Half forgotten

Just in reach

The pen

The pencil

And eraser

Of  time

Half remembered

Pity.

Or Grace

Its presence precious

as the day…

She recalls the water

Flowing wildly from rocks

Beginning and end

The laughter of friends.