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.