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,
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.
H E A R T F E L T
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
Directing our eye;
I looked out of the car window as things sped by.