Mechanical excavators upon Hampstead Heath,
Last bastion of peace
Those who feared their property value might decrease
And those who stood to profit
“Build some dams here; Goddamn it!”
Preceptor's thunderous voices
in Victorian-style school systems,
“In this day and age?,” I vociferate;
They bury all that's good in each child.
The politics of desperation;
A housing crisis.
working immeasurable lengths
to live in places.
You were sympathetic for a while,
When I swam in the ladies' pond
And breathed in your summer-tide,
So many that I love reside
And the endless stimulation.
But I'm tired of the amorous deprivation,
With no husband or child
To make an altar for my sacrifice;
How to remain here,
My love sat with heart in hand,
Recited the wind
The world can seem blue
But bright colours shine from the pages of his mind.
F R E E D O M
The sun warms without expectation of
He doesn't search for something extraneous
But understands the nature of the true magus,
I flew the friendly skies yesterday,
It set me down upon a river's rock
Where I swam away the hard angles of city life.
I considered how attempts to
Might be like writing in the sand of a sea-shore.
Twilight in Costa Rica
I breathed in
violet, January blooms,
spread out among uncultivated gardens,
And the rose evening,
which swept along the upper atmosphere.
Laying down now,
Sundown a distant murmur,
I heed singing mice and clicking gheckos;
They enter my sleepy fancies,
Suspended across space;
More famous than
Whose fine looks earned
him a place in the night sky,
Will be Wifi.
Shaping our destiny
And directing our eye;
I remember, as a kid,
I looked out of the car window as things sped by.