Loopy Lune

Loopy Luna shines
Combing sky
Lighting her own face

The Joker

Seamus said he dug with his
But I am less of farming stock
Frustrated by the daily mis’
My pen prefers the short, sharp, shock
So taking from old movies, scenes
That better fit my present snit
I’ll borrow Action from my teens
While nib’s still sharp – I’ll stab with it.

Imagination II

Icebergs hide their feelings

Chilling out in cool company

Nine-tenths buried

At the bottom of the fridge

I cannot share in their dreams

I am not a lettuce

Though I sometimes go brown

And feel rotten in the heat

Linguistic seduction

There is no order to a poem
No demands made or met
Paper and ink come without shackles
And yet, language has power,
A verse may hold you captive, spellbound,
Words browbeat you, leaving you raw and crying
Lead you to change your opinion,
Mend your ways, even fall in love.
Naturally there is a word for this,
Allowing us to pass sentence on such a construct,
Both praising and damning a few lines,
Summing up the power of written thought
In three syllables, at a stroke.
One dirty, descriptive word:
Compelling.

Enchaine

A miracle of lights and lies
Lies hidden deep within your eyes
Eyes that of nature were not borne
Born to rail and scold and scorn
Scorn one who loves you ever so
So much she cannot let you go
Go tear a heart from one whose beats
Beat strongly yet enough to weep.