A Mat Springs Up

Once lived a woman in a cabin
positioned between wood and river
Once the woman was girlish in apron
Now she's shriveled.

From cabin's chimney, ash spirals skyward
Over the fireplace bubbles a pot of lentils
Once stood a village, its remnants scattered.
Once there was synagogue, sabbath and kaddish.

Once chickens were raised behind nearby fences
Once kindling was gathered and bound for fire
Once crow's call was heard in fleeting formation,
behind it the roar of black cross fighters.

Once upon another age,
you and I, were lovers
before the center of world
suddenly shifted.

Blues in The Lantern

Blow talks a tale
dense as river's bottom

Keyboard walks the comet's tail
while hoarse induces slink

Slink blows riffs
Riffs is reef

Blues is smoke
Blues is water

Stage and Actors

Diva is she,
the reason, the purpose,
the high note of choir!

Diva's the Miss wrapped up in purple
like altars in purple are wrapped up for Lent,
Diva's the stage and the stage she is set.

The stage is bejeweled, entombed in a box.
The box is slid into a chariot hearse,
the actors so scripted, the actors rehearsed.

No further delay, let us commence.
First, there was Grammy, then baptismal submergence,
baptismal submergence unto her death.

As for the eulogies delivered this mourn,
they were the best, the best of the worst;
the tears and the sobbing, the actors rehearsed.

Who shall remember
a hundred years hence?
I'll love you forever,in peace may you rest.

Hermetic

While I awaited my Blue Knight's arrival, I surrendered to the urge
to explore what valleys lay beyond the nearest hill and while at it,
to try to uncover what might be there to eat.

These were the wanderings of a Jewess raised not in Sinai wilderness
but in Siberia. Ice, summer and tundra desolation was the table
on which I scrutinized the heart's desires.

I still await the Blue Knight yet no more footloose as I once had been.
Stay put girl, hair combed, face washed, watch the seasons transpire
and how your garden grows when you're not looking.

Comfy me in my toy land setting,
magnifying glass in ready,
joy, all mine and hermetic.

On The Other Hand

For every option there are equals in the range of opposites.
For generosity there is cruelty. For corruption there is purity.

Generosity gives back thankfully.
Cruelty lusts hurt.

Corruption is simply an add on. Purity is generally subtraction,
that marks the distance between essence and zero.

Hear The Jingle

See change.
See change change.
Affect post change.
Change speak in order to speak change.

To heal hurt
or serve the goal of destruction,
believe change advances agendas.

Hearken, then, little children to the jingle.
Be we all the agents of change Cosmos promised,
so that promises kept
are promises proven.

With Hurt

Drugs to deal with what you're losing,
to forget what you're becoming,
to accept what you've become.
to end it all, at least for the moment.

Hats of Sorts of Course

Bonnets fashion fabric
on heads designed to roost.

Owl wings a minute past the midnight hour,
on Roman Chomsky's head prepared to groom.

On Roman's head nests awhile,
Roman Chomsky stoned in far out Colorado,

piano ripples in wakes of lake
Roman, owl and the moon.

To The Hurt

Of nothing are we certain,
even of how prayer works when it does.

But this have I witnessed for myself,
that faith is never powerful and more persistent
than when encircled by humility.

Pink Bows and Ribbons

She's a living doll straight out of a fairytale book ,
The hues in her eyes are that of fractured prism,
The sheen of them is like marbles.
Her lips are sherry, the allurement of intoxication.

She is all pink bows and ribbons,
polka dot dressed, sugarcane in hand,
her cheeks are delicious; her smile
completely white the texture of Ben and Jerry.

And, then, oh wretched day! A plate stacked high with waffles
is put before the girl. Oh cursed! What might be her allergens?
For in a voice and in a tongue quite foreign --- one I'd swear ---
to scare the jeepers out of exorcists, the doll growls demonic:

"These waffles are not crispy!" Bows and ribbons hurled upside down,
the doll's hair stands on frizzled ends, and her head rotates 360.
Battle of the Bulge by wizards!
The buttons of the polka dot pop like Roman candles.

What makes the child's eyes bulge hideous?
In truth, we cannot say what causes this kind of revulsion,
or why living dolls from fairytale books
should suddenly go ballistic.

Suddenly

I sound crazy to you, do I?
Crazy is stupidity to the extreme.
I should act demure like a lady should?
A lady like that I wouldn't wanna to be.

I should behave like a blushing bride?
Another word for weak is shy. Be it known,
by my own sweat and with my own shovel,
three times I've been wedded, 3 times widowed.

Too romantic is a pit. Love yourself first.
Everyone else second. Embrace solitude.
Live in peace. The end of libido
is the beginning of happiness.

Show-me-ship

It's not about folding hands piously
or rolling eyes in swoons mystic.

Holiness is wholeness.

More than simple wholeness is showmanship.
Less than simple wholeness frames me a hypocrite.

In Search of Patterns

By careful observation puzzles are decoded.
Inspiration stimulates imagination.
Discernment distinguishes reality from fiction.

In fatiguing investigations, the near and simple explanations
can be easily overlooked. Study, study, study, study.
May the quest for knowledge keep us from becoming weary.

Thy will be done on Earth

Everything I eat, the clothes I wear,
the shelter over my head, of earth.
Therefore, when I pray, "Thy will be done on earth,"
I speak of these hands, of this my breath,
indeed, amen, even my soul I do not exclude.

Under The Crescent Moon

Crimson stars in deep hue night.
Parrot lip petals my delight.
Oh to the garden of the elusive,
Sage as a babe, blades of Yucca,
Rosemary not just a maiden,
but the Queen of Perfumes.