Dawning of the Gods

Why do fools envision twilight?

Chasing the End of Night,

Peering through the grey 

illuminated by the grace of the fallen one,

how do they fail to see what's coming?

The golden-haired princess

returns from her uncle's palace

of gloom, gently turning the

wheel that crushes snakes,

while worms wiggle free.

            previously published in the collection

            All Seasons

Sunday night in Inman Square

Sunday night in Inman Square

Neighborhood of bars

Chairs on tables

Closing time

Back to work tomorrow

Lonely cigarettes

Empty bottles

Resume the dream on Friday

Listen to the footsteps

Sleepily away

                    previously published in All Seasons 

Cambridge, MA

What city on a hill

through storm and wars stood still

nor budged from that what's right

or bow'd to dark'ning night

but kept the lanterns lit, and rang

the bell of freedom, indeed, sang

the cause of women, children, men

from everywhere, forever, when

the nations trembled, sore, in vain,

while blood proceeded, poured as rain

upon the town, did leave its stain.

Did She look down, around to blame

or back in weeping, forth in fear?

Nay, she looked up, shed but one tear

rememb'ring yonder Concord bridge;

She's known the world round, Cambridge.

                    previously published in All Seasons

Related content by the author:

                                                    post-Election Day blues

                                                    Turning Inward

Queen of the South

O Queen of the South,

sweet lover of Solomon,

Lady of Sheba,

your Sun is full bright

often I think

that Glorious King

still lives, and calls me

from Africa

and who am I,

but a frightened deer?

though I have waged

fierce battle before,

now I lay silent, 

staring at Heaven;

take me back, you

Black Mother of Adam

                previously published in All Seasons

Turning Inward

Turning inward

 after The Fall

Looking inside

 to hide

 from it all

The windows are closed

 against the wintry frost

The shades are drawn;

 sun breaks in, yet still

 daylight is lost

Cinematic discs of plastic

 entertain us, jaded to magic

We who prefer to talking heads

 or terrors to talk of, tossing in bed---

 manly muscle, bosoms, bustle;

 a joke more priceless than

        Her Majesty's diadem,

 we incubate in breasts of hubris

 the spirit of our times and nation

from a red notebook, circa summer 2021

Horrible prose of History where

    poets proudly proclaim the

benevolence of kings, Glory

    while

Nations tremble and

    wait in the doldrums

    of time

Sweet kiss goodnight

Empire of the stars

    smiling down on us

    while

Heaven rains

    phosphor tears

Trudge through

    tremendous tribulation,

and exalt the prolonged

suffering of our birthright

                                      .    .    .

Fractal Asymptote

    Nearing the centre

Conflagration

    Holocaust that

    will never reach

                The End

Midway

A new beginning

Pacific Theater of Cruelty

    Precipitous Plutonium

Ginsberg scratching odes

    on the cell wall

Pindar obsequiating

        for all Eternity

                                       .    .    .

Rubbing sticks to

gether to cool down

Campfire in the Summer

darkness. Sent to

gather berries maidens

reach for bidden fruit

& come back w/

    husbands for slaves

                                        .    .    .

You can't forge steel

    without a little

    irony

Copper-crusted

  green decay of dollars

Depreciation, currency

manipulation (yellow belt,

                        Kung-Flu)

Towards a Lay of Faramir

 I

This being the grave tale

of Faramir, bold and brave

who did retrieve, from peril dire

for his sire, the golden ring

That Denethor, bereft of hope

whose eldest son had set upon

the ever-flowing Anduin

and him received the boundless sea

The younger brother proved his steel

though saved from the refining fire

by halfling bold, and twice a fool

yet father and hoard perished in flame

II

In youth the hero sword did shun

to study lore, with wizard mingled

learning much, betraying naught

still was observed by Lord all-seeing

Steward of the Kings' City

that southern bastion,

fell to waste

who espied Northward, ever watchful

saviour, supplanter 'midst the wilderness