Reprobate

Rejected as an outcast…
Lost soul searching for a home,
Damned and duly destitute,
Despised and wholly victimized.

Seen through sad judgmental eyes that
Never seek to look within.
Disapproval driving home a
Wall of censure full of hate.

Lost to stroll the streets in silence,
Walk among the heinous hoards
Sowing seeds of condemnation
In a garden so corrupt.

Gypsy bands play gaily
Til the fall from grace is absolute,
Dance around the fire until
The gloom of Lucifer appears.

Who are these unprincipled?
These hail and hearty sideshow freaks?
Watching as their numbers grow

Until damnation is complete.

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Flimflam

You can’t sell that nonsense here.
This is not some backdoor scam,
A bait and switch to flim the flam on
Some poor unsuspecting dupe.

Break the chain so much reviled
That preys upon the meek and mild
With unrelenting painful force and
Knocks the victim for a loop.

Is this some vast eBay scheme?
A slice of toast, an image seen
By someone whose imagination
Casts a wide suspicious net.

Should I bite and make a bid?
Cast my lot across the grid?
Forsaking common sense and logic,
Take a chance on what I get?

Can I beat the flimflam man?
Will I lose and be the dope?
Taking chances,
Dancing dances,
Holding out eternal hope.

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Climb

You can stand on the 
mountaintop looking down 
or in the valley looking up. 
Climb. 

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Torque

Hunker up and make me spin.
Hunker down and twist again.
Keep the pressure turning in
So we can glide into the wind.

Twisted with a finger wrench,
Not a worry, not a pinch,
Feather light, intent to quench,
Fulfilling every measured inch.

Every moment hand in hand
Seals the bond so neatly planned,
Tightening our troubled band
Into a strong united stand.

We have been and yet will be

Purveyors of utility.
Wheels revolve eternally
To make us one,
To set us free.

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Accolades

Praise upon prolific praise
Heaped up to the hilt,
An avalanche of accolades
Falling from the sky.
A maraschino cherry topping
Mounds of whipping cream,
Tickles of a Ferris wheel
Twenty stories high.

Beat the drum for all who come
To sing their heroes praise.
Shine the subtle spotlight
On the golden haloed hair.
Tell the hallowed haunting tale
That led to paths of glory,
Trials and tribulations overcome
To get to there.

Will you find it difficult
Accepting tributes prize?
Have you earned the worshiping
Reflected in their eyes?
We are but mere mortals
Acting out our escapades,
Hoping to be worthy
Of accepting accolades.

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Bamboozled

What say we go dupe the dope?
Give him just enough of the
Unwinding rope to satisfy, mollify,
Catch his eye and offer hope
Where hopelessness alone prevails.
Hear the senseless plaintive wails
Softly as they emanate
But fail to reach the ears of fate,
Gasping as they grope.

Pray! Who are these bamboozlers?
These plausible confuselers,
These hearty, hateful handlers,
These unexcused excuselers
Who prey on pretty pitifuls
With easily committables,
Trancing and then trampling
The lame and limping snoozelers.

Must the weary always be
The victims of such piracy?
Failing to transcend the
Vague illusion of transparency.
Open eyes can catch the prize
And yet avoid bamboozlement,
If only they are tuned and wise;
If only they are meant to see.

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Contiguous

As nighttime follows daylight,
As sidewalks hug the street,
As fingers fold to handshakes
And the music forms a beat,

The second hand sweeps constantly
Erasing yesterday.
And who will know the overflow
That swiftly slips away.

Is it not all connected
In some melancholy rhyme?
Are we to be suspected of
Diminishing in time?

And there are lessons to be learned,
And patterns to obey
In skillfully connected
Interactive interplay.

And daylight yields to nighttime,
And the street is sidewalk’s friend.
Our hands enfold in friendship
And the music never ends.

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Dilatory

Putting on the putting off
Leads to yet another story,
While the moans of lazy bones
Speaks in volumes dilatory.

If the season captures reason
In the rhythm of the rhyme,
Chances are the pithy plan will
Meet demand to end on time.

But if sidetracks switch the cargo
And the focus goes awry,
Who is left the beastly burden?
Who explains the where and why?

Let me be the fiend of focus,
Crack the whip and set the course,
Dash the dilatory demon,
Banish him with lethal force.

Heroes haunt the halls of rescue
Never seeking fame or glory,
Always in the nick of time,
Never late or dilatory.

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Oxymoron

It’s been a long-short, easy-hard,
Noisy-quiet time since the
Frizzy-frazzle, paddy-paddle
Came-went away.
And the clearly muddled message
Of our logical-nonsensical
Led us all to follow
What unspoken words can say.

And the moving stillness calls us
In a voice we cannot hear
With a razor dullness sharper
Than the blunt end of a spear.
Come and heed the mute rendition
Of a song no one is singing.
Come and wrap your restless arms
Around the nothing that is there.

We will win the losers battle.
We will fight them in retreat,
Run to cover with a vengeance,
Raise our flag in proud defeat.
They shall feel our passive anger,
The grave weakness of our might.
We will teach an unlearned lesson
In surrendering to fight.

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Minx

Bold and brazen little minx,
Champion of a thousand winks,
Cast your cares and flaunt your wares
In hottest shades of reds and pinks.

Flap and flash and fairy dust
Sparkling in flaxen hair.
Not a care to cloud the way,
Every day a fantasy.

Subtlety a distant thought,
Seldom caught with set designs.
Don’t want to be left behind
When all the fun begins.

Walking tall where labels stick,
Stepping quickly in the mix.
No regrets, no looking back,
Knowing all the traps and tricks.

Just be careful and beware.
There is danger everywhere.
Seeds of lust do not breed trust
In victims who accept your dare.

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Ricochet

Born of power, unafraid,
Totally indifferent to the caste and class
Written in the logs and ledgers of the world.
Cased in brass, ready to ignite with fury
In an instant, sending forth the unsuspecting infant
Hurtling with deadly force.

Traveling more than sight and sound,
Cutting, screeching through the air
Defying friction, gravity,
Screaming hot with total dread.
Searching for a target,
     Any target that may cross its path.
Nothing to impede the speed,
     Must concede to destiny.

But the object of desire
Hides behind an obstacle unexpected,
Unprotected from the fury and the wrath.
Now the path has been deflected, and
Your target redirected.
Who must fear your ricochet?
No one really knows.

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Boomerang

Swiftly she travels in circular patterns,
Banking off currents, too busy to care about
Rules of inertia, bending the air.
Coming to rest where her journey began.

Bands of perception trickle and tickle the
Soul of deception replete in your sail.
Winds of experience always prevail as the
Hourglass sharpens and runs out of sand.

We who have known you are ever attuned
Of your vigilant countenance, true to a fault,
Tempted to vault over hillside and valley
Only to turn and return to the nest.

And those who you touch, may the angels be with them,
Heaven forgive them and all of their seed.
Quenching the need of our civilized union,
Putting our labors to rest.

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Charisma

There is a power,
     Mostly unnoticed,
That touches perception
     Drawing its pleasure,
Feeding off charm and
     Self-deprecation,
Taking and giving
     In equal measure.

Siphoning pressure
     Defusing the tension,
Total suspension of
     Fusion and flack.
Taking the brunt of
     Blunt confrontation,
Turning it inside out,
     Giving it back.

Here is a gift
     Given to but a few,
Humble and silent,
     Hidden from view.

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Hoopla

So much harping on pretenses,
Cannot take this manic craze.
Hopeless daze enslaves the senses
Leaving logic comatose.

So much cheering, jeering, leering,
Fearing nothing, come what may.
Basking in the hapless moment,
Taking in a lethal dose.

All this hoopla dulls the meaning,
Useless screening of the facts 
Peppered with acute sensations,
Accusations, thoughtlessness.

Riding on such feckless preening,
Truth careening off the walls
Carrying its weightless favor
Meant to savor sweet success. 

Reason enters only after
All the hoopla fades to black.
Thankful witness to its exit,
Hoping it will not come back.

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Intrigue

Fascinated by your swagger
As you glide into the room with
Such a confident demeanor that
You never touch the ground.

Animated actions flatter
Like the waft of sweet perfume.
Qualities befit a Queen or
Princess, made without a sound.

I stand silent, much in awe,
Wondering what secret mission
Brought you to this time and place,
Led me here to probe and pry.

I can’t find a single flaw,
Nothing to be brought to question,
No clue in your poker face,
Not a hint of what or why.

Let me solve your mystery,
Know the depth of your intrigue
That calls you from a different level
Somewhere in a higher league.

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Life

Life is not a scripted rehearsal. 
Improvise. 

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Yesteryear

Playtime was much simpler;
Erector sets… Lincoln logs…
Trike to bike to roller skates,
No need for plugs of batteries.

Toss a baseball.
     Shoot some hoops.
Tag, you’re it or
     Bum-bum-bum.
Simple games of hide and seek,
     Skipping stones,
          Climbing trees.

And time moved so much slower then,
Stretching into evening’s light
Til mother’s summons, firm and final,
Bid us put our toys away.

Let the fireflies beam in peace.
Let the earth rest for the night.
They will still be there tomorrow.
There will be another day.

Now the world is spinning faster,
Filling hearts with doubt and fear.
How I long for simpler times,
Dreaming hard of yesteryear.

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Tommyrot

What is all this foolishness?
These blatant crude absurdities
That brings the mighty to their knees
And elevates the masses.

Is it nothing more than gossip?
Casting rumor in their lot,
Filled with useless tommyrot
To open bloody gashes.

Vigil hidden in the shadows
Waiting with a sudden flash,
Striking with a stinging lash
To capture indiscretions.

Pausing barely long enough to
Make their presence known to all,
Rush before the deadlines fall
To render their confessions.

We who listen, wait and watch
To see our heroes fall
Are more the victim in the end;
Tommyrot and all.

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Understood

Seldom do we disagree,
     Though we could.
That has been our history,
     And it’s good.
Nothing written,
     Nothing formal,
Seeking nothing less than normal,
Trying hard and hoping to be
     Understood.

You don’t put the blame on me
     When things go wrong.
When I’m in your company it’s
     Like a song.
Seasons come,
     Seasons go.
Still and all it’s good to know
We still have each other and it’s
Understood.

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Voracious

Nothing is safe from the jaws of this tiger
Whose ravenous appetite knows no remorse.
Stalking the jungle, the beast knows his quarry.
Daybreak to sunset, no creature secure.

No one approaches, in fear of his vengeance,
The catapult swiftness of his fierce attack.
Choosing in deference to cower in silence
Quivering quietly, deftly unsure.

What makes his hunger abide so voracious?
When is enough ever truly enough?
When will the lamb get her chance at the table?
How much injustice can one world endure?

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Zapped

Separated from the burgeoning tribe,
Trapped inside this vast enclosure,
Flitting and zipping one station to next,
Seeking the freedom of larger domains.

Not understanding the wonder of windowpanes,
Trapped by a barrier one cannot see,
Banging against it again and again,
Wondering why my prison remains.

Seeking contentment, not knowing exactly
What that may entail, but knowing enough.
Knowing no purpose except the annoyance of
Creatures giganticus swatting in vain.

Who can endure such pervasive perversion?
Mindless existence can be such toil
Until all of the sudden, without any warning,
Zapped to oblivion
Sparing no pain.

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Words

Words can hurt or heal. 
Choose them carefully.

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Quasar

The closeness of your distance
In your brightly darkened sky
Is the evidence of witness
As it offers solitude.

Far from civilized perfection
In the clouds above your halo
I find solace and reflection in
Your peaceful attitude.

With the flickering of starlight
Tapping gently on my shoulder
Comes a quiet resolution
Brushing softly on my skin.

Though the cannons may be rumbling,
Thundering on the distant hillsides
You can still their blundering
And make me whole again.

Brightest object in my night
Shine on me your giving light,
Kindle fires in my heart to
Make my wretched soul take flight.

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Swirls

Stir the magic frothing foam to
Soothe the seething cauldron of
Her mystical elliptical
Simmering upon the pit.
Sending signals in the air
To hither, yon and everywhere.
Passersby are mystified,
Eyes transfixed to catch the prize.

Simple swirls,
Lovely pearls adorning alabaster skin.
Complex rhyme
Marking time around in circles, then again.

Peaks and valleys never seen,
Must be totally serene.
No sharp angles, tears or tangles,
Shades of yellow, red and green to
Give direction, offer pattern.
No rules given or allowed.
Swirling, twirling, billowing
High above her anxious crowd.

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Resurrection

Mention me on the other side.
     I shall be coming soon enough
          As is the fate of mortal flesh
               To shed the trappings of this world.

You’ve not truly gone away,
     Just gone ahead to ease the pain
          That we had thought unbearable,
               To clear the bramble from the path.

And I shall hold your memory,
     Keep it warm inside my breast,
          Hold your story to the light so
               Others may ingest your fame.

And you can tell all whom you meet
     That I shall join you in due time.
          We will feast in jubilation
               When again our eyes embrace.

We shall survive to meet again,
     In what dimension no one knows.
          Only that the surety of
               Resurrection bodes us well.

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Ostentatious

In the grandeur of this manor
Lined with all its’ gilded service
Lies a subtle message of
The privilege I can’t recall.

Shunned by lines of landed gentry
I am from more sturdy stock
Whose generations tended fields
For those who dwell inside these walls.

All the finery to witness,
All that riches can provide.
Priceless points of peerless crystal
Filling out these faultless halls.

In my folly youth I longed to
Know these treasures, taste the wine,
Kiss the fair-haired maiden as
We waltzed at the cotillion ball.

But alas, reality comes beckoning as if on cue
To quell this ostentatious paradox,
Send it to oblivion unceremoniously,
Or keep it safely sealed inside a box.

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Posturing

Arms crossed, waiting-
          Silently.
Head tilt.
          Eyebrow raised
In just a hint of mischief.
          Folly that.
Meant to discount points of view.

Sweep across with mandrill arms to
Bat away succinct opinion.
Nothing matters save the words that
Finally escape your tongue.

You must be decision grantor.
You must have the final thought.
Only one king rules the kingdom
Though usurpers vainly try.

No one can convey your wisdom,
Feel the pulse inside your veins.
Can your stubborn will be met
In witness to such posturing?

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Beginnings

Every breath 
a new beginning. 

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Notorious

Void of any social graces,
Banned from all the nicest places,
Falling off the learning curve
That common etiquette embraces.

Not adept at tolerance,
At building trust or building fences.
Brutish force seems more adroit
When necessary to convince.

Strong winds blow to feed the flame,
Kindling ill-gotten fame.
Notorious, uproarious,
Seeking someone else to blame.

Burning candles through the night.
Right is wrong and wrong is right.
All that matters in the end is
Who will win this futile fight.

When the beast comes home to rest
Will he finish second best?
Will his pride be satisfied?
Will his conscience stand the test?

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Idiosyncrasy

Peculiar as it all may be
It’s really quite the norm for me.
You say yea and I say nay
When simple maybe would suffice.

We solve it problematically
With idiosyncrasity.
The ups, the downs, the turnarounds,
The dogma of pure sacrifice.

Subtle difference often plays
A character in our malaise,
A comic thief, brief relief
To make the picture worth the price.

Karma often wears disguise,
Hides behind flirtatious eyes,
Bending rules and acting cruel,
Deceiving hoards with its device.

You have nothing left to fear
As smiles spread from ear to ear.
True is true and you are you to
Be yourself and not think twice.

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Hooligan

You cannot barter or disdain
This flesh-eating hooligan, this devil, this saint.
Disguised as he may be in hooded robe,
Distant in shadows he strikes his prey.

By day you may know him again and again
As he changes his mask to suit purpose and cause.
But light from above pales sinister eyes
That strike like daggers impaling the heart.

I was the foolish one, innocent victim,
Giving in blindly for promises made.
Never conceiving deceit in the bargain,
Never foreseeing the price I must pay.

Woe be to you who sets caution aside
When the hooligan bastard touches your sleeve.
Better to look into fire-wielding eyes and
To know who your enemy is from the start.

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Dilly Dally

So easy to let little things
Turn into vague meanderings,
Distractions of attractions
Unconnected to reality.

Possessed to dilly dally as
The time begins to tally
To a late last minute rally
Built on inconsistency.

Focus? Not a large concern
As seconds tick and hours turn,
Precious lessons all but spurned
In addle-minded youth.

So much for hard persistence in
This muddled-up existence
Ever widening the distance
Between fantasy and truth.

Time keeps moving forward,
Never thinks to hesitate,
Will not hold your place in line,
Will not negotiate.

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Kaleidoscope

Crank up all the colors just to 
     Mesmerize my eyes as the
          Fleeting, flowing, free-fall
               Sends my senses in a spin.

Simple shapes selected, then
     Reflected one by one by one
          In a multi-layered mirroring
               That doubles back again.

Turn the tube to view the show
     Of sequined, sparkling shapes.
          Find designs of every kind
               As light sublimely bends.

Even though you know the show 
     Is shy reality,
          It’s glee to spin, then spin again,
                And easy to pretend.

Praying for a joyful trek,
     A grand kaleidoscope.
          Riding boldly with my eyes,
               Enjoying to the end.

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Flirtatious

It could be as simple as
A batted eyelash, hardly noticed.
Or perhaps as subtle as a
Head-tilt, hair-flip with a wink.

Oft times just the slightest gesture
Lends its’ hint of openness,
Body language shouting loud
Before the mind has time to think.

One brief moment she is princess
Dazzling the haloed room,
All your childhood fantasies,
Your Cinderella dressed in pink.

Though your vows are aged with ivy
And your will is hinged in stone,
She will use her winsome wiles to
Graze your armor, find the chink.

Now reality grows feet.
Was her wink designed for me?
Must be my imagination
Falling hard to break the link.

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