Nocturne.

Every stroke of genius
Belies a gentle simplicity
And every tender tracing
Draws from a basic melody
And even in such clockwork discord
I find peace between the lines


Silk spiders on ivory
Bound in shifting silver
Make it rain

Poison the waterhole.

Exquisitely destructive
In the wake of my perfection
That is not your bent

Do you live in the forest?
Are you trapped in the past?
Do the boughs of the forest bend for you?

They do not bend for you
The forest is mine
Witch

And I'd have you know I cauterise
The forest's paralytic spread

.

One foot in the grave
And the other in your bed
One hand is hammering the nails in my coffin
And the other is resting right under your head

A Villanelle.

Through valley, savannah, the mud and the snow
From clifftop we howl to the midnight air
Look just how far we have managed to go

To the dead wind's of the marsh, the great cold night's tow
Inside of the swamps, and wherever we dare
Through valley, savannah, the mud and the snow

The old sleeping giants force our path low
To the ground we had marched through all eldritch lairs
Look just how far we have managed to go

When tragedy struck, and our progress made slow
By the dread inward rage, at our own flesh we tear
Through valley, savannah, the mud and the snow

Scooped up by the water, and the tide swells and grows
We are made clean in the cool, the sea, green and fair
Look just how far we have managed to go

On mountain we scream and let our demons know
Saints all and sinners, with theatrical flair
Through valley, savannah, the mud and the snow
Look just how far we have managed to go

Comport yourselves.

As our worry wanes
Our idiosyncratic
Temperamental and
All too eccentric
Proclivities
Grow

When the instance comes
The elevation of
And instinctual flight from
The beast within
The static
Slows

Is that any way to behave?

The Happy Road.

Why, yes, I have been reading Dr. Seuss.

We're all just a little afraid of ennui
It's a big scary world, so naturally
We sometimes become a bit scared, but don't be
Even though it might be hard to fight, this ennui

One day you may slump down into a ditch
A dip in the highway, no ride there to hitch
You'll be unable to scratch that ongoing itch
Scratched by your movement, blocked by this ditch

Normally you'd run at your neck-breaking speed
That's what life's about! No matter the deed
Unflinching, unstopping, no goal but "Proceed!"
It's key for our happiness, this wind-matching speed

But down in the ditch there's nowhere to run
There's nothing to do, there's not any fun
So sometimes you sit, and nothing get's done
What you'd rather be just going out for a run

But I have a solution to this impasse, this grate
The only way out of the ditch is "Create!"
A bridge or a ladder or something to sate
Your escapee needs, you need something great

And sometimes it's hard to create anything
You can't dance, you can't write, you can't build, laugh, or sing
And from this maker's struggle, the most marvelous thing
We find progress in there, yes, progress! Of all things

There are all manner of ditches and forks in the road
And the choice now is yours, to decide where you go
Don't forget to create for those ditches are low
And you'll find yourself on a new happy road

Gentlemen.

I am expert,
So they say,
At being the stranger yet finding a way


And worming in.
I've never relinquished
And I delight in easy wins.


And you, you, you,
Mein Gott, Mon Dieu,
Are winning,


But, phew,
What a place to stop.
Enunciate


Your words,
Please,
The blinds


On the windows of your mind
Are tattered,
Bruised and battered


By the times.
They keep on spinning, and I
Can fly


On wings,
A cape,
And children's things.


I may be a bit of a child
And the unwashed leper too.
Oh, you


Exhale like the lungs
Of the no longer broken,
But are you still broken in two?


You, du, Sie,
Tu,
En parlez-vous?


Lord knows I do.