Salvageable

Momentos from the aftermath
including swirls of dredged-up wrath
displayed for all the world to see
preserved inside of you and me
as we continue down the path
of living and just letting be.

There's nothing anyone can say
there are no words that we can pray
to take away the awful pain
the image of each streaking plane
that pierced our innocence that day,
that chilled the blood in every vein

and overwhelmed each worn synapse
with fear when watching the collapse
of everything that we believe,
the selfless heroes we now grieve
whose sacrifices taught perhaps
there's hope for what we might achieve.

Nothing to Sneeze At

Beware a plot that's green
yet touts the spore of reason
grab your antihistamine
it's allegory season
where morals filled with mold
may spark your nose's treason
best get the softest tissue sold
it's allegory season.

Gruesome Twosome

The Credit King
and the Craven Thing
are back to finish carving
the Giant's den
to once again
leave all the minions starving.

With money gone
the Giant's pawn
is too inept to handle
this thieving team
that likes to scheme
the next unneeded scandal.

Too Close to Call

When one with willful ways
just shares what's in their heart
is it but a passing phase
or will they call it art?

Ruffled

The blackbird told the squirrel
"I wish I had your curl."
"But then you couldn't fly."
was the rodent's wry reply,

"Though if I had your beak
I'd look rather sleek."
"But then you couldn't gnaw."
she tweeted, "So pshaw!"

Tall Order

To ride upon a strand of silk
that wafts along a gentle breeze
may help one circumvent the ilk
that grovel on their battered knees

positioning oneself astride
this insubstantial steed
and finding wind enough to glide
is needed to be freed

but it's not such an easy task
for I have never found
a spider big enough to ask
or a zephyr that profound.

Redeemed

If they ever begin to applaud
I'll flounder, unsure what to do
my epic estrangement is broad

but nothing I can't muddle through
for everyone's fatally flawed
(except for those buying my view).

Seeing Through

The brilliant sun (so lofty)
is calling to me softly
just beyond the fringes of my pane
and where it's golden fingers
have touched me, warmness lingers
which makes all other comfort seem in vain
but this is not permitted
and thus I am committed
to staying in this cube where I remain
my wanderlust apparent
and thin facade transparent
as photons telling me to shed the rein.

Germination

Look, a bathing crow
in a pool of melted snow
where farmers long to sow

and very soon the sun
will speed the thaw begun
our chores are never done

for once we plant a seed
we're planning our next deed
and we proceed.

Unconvinced

Though blossoms bloom
do not presume
the summer is in season
it takes more shown
than spring cologne
for devotees of reason.

In the Dumps

Your dwelling will likely turn drab
and be in some need of repairs
if you never once hazzard a stab
at fixing those rickety stairs

or scraping the flaky facade,
your dwelling will likely turn drab
with weeds poking out of the sod
and fringing each sidewalk slab.

Unless you're willing to dab
some paint, you better just rent
your dwelling will likely turn drab
and you'll have more woes to repent

that fester inside of your mind
like maggots that gnaw on a scab
and you will undoubtedly find
your dwelling will likely turn drab.

Choice Words

For every is there's a was
though dos don't always foster does
and every will meets a won't
where every didn't isn't a don't.

Resist saying "I have to do it."
just do it and say "It's done!"
Your plan, if you pursue it
may flourish once begun.

Good Bones

The function of form
is to frame a construction
exceeding the norm
with enormous conjunction.

Contrast

The ordered chaos finally ends
and I can toss these worn Depends
awash in hope as Spring arrives
ambivalence as well survives
a mix of pining and relief
that April (much like life) is brief.

Institutionalized

The poet that adores their pen
may be somewhat startled when
there's no one left beyond the laws
or reasons to pursue the cause
except for that intense release
of every sentence, every piece.

Can there be an apt defense
against the lack of common sense?
remember when they cried "Convict!"
and how you felt your lungs constrict
despite this urge you now deplore
to be locked up for evermore.