Rivers Like Tears
Rivers like tears
are haulers of pain.
Taken away
to another world,
I drift through the
rivers and the tears.
These haulers of
pain, these rivers, tears,
the tides send me
to other worlds and
I sink or swim.
Never triumphant,
the storm sends me
reeling on hard waves
that bruise my bones
and harm my good eye.
I feel my flesh
fill with dark water
once blue. It makes
me nauseous. Now and
then I bathe in blood.
The reddening sky seems
like a wall of
pain that will soon fall.
A Night in the City
Night fills with
helicopter sound
and flashing lights;
swallowed and regurgitated shadows,
street spotlights,
metallic cars screeching,
cops and suspects,
barred windows rattling
from the outside ruckus.
The city never sleeps
with so much sound,
from one valley to the next,
there is a poem to be written
about what goes on.
Put everything in, the blood,
the tears, the pain of a night like this.
Fools
Fools will be fooled
by fools promising things
They feed on lies
as if Heaven sent and their
rebellious ways are misguided.
Why be a rebellious fool?
Why be cozy with fools?
I am wondering what is sacred
about falsehood?
The violence of sheep
who follow the word of the fool,
every word, they follow along
to a fool’s paradise.
The mind begins to fade.
It cannot reason.
They follow the voice
lost in false promises.
Head over heels, they are.
They walk through the door
and drop to the floor.
Empty promises
continue to mesmerize the fools.
They walk toward the light
after years of becoming the fool.
It is sad to see
how a fool has become their god.
