The End?

                                                    (Image from Us.123rf.com)
Rain on skin
Salt in the blood
It doesn't get any better
than this
Ripping ties earthbound
Seeking love in death
What could be
More romantic than
The end?

                             (Image from Thoughtfulspot.typepad.com)

Tomorrow the Sun

(Image from Billfrymire.com)

Storms send out warning
of dark clouds and drizzle
ahead of wind, rain, death

Tremors don’t
But the dogs howling
at ghosts; birds flying
into windows, walls

Songs crash into words
Breaking stride, crushing dew
Fear in faces, stuck in place
Feet turn to stone

Leaden the dead
Spread the news
The world ends anew
Tomorrow the sun

(Image from absolutechinatours.com)

The Emperor’s Reign

Refusing to go
after the king;
they fall over each other
declining chance
to say something.
Too brilliant even for the sun,
Too smart for the report of a gun.
I remain alone
on top of my mountain


(Image from images.bridgeman.co.uk)

The Emperor’s Rain

It comes without
so much as a by your leave.
It falls soft, pitter patter,
or hard, an invading army
hungry for gore glory.

It is food.
It is death.
It is sink or swim,
stuck in the mud.

It is an old lover,
the only friend;
when gods
abandon Olympus
fearful of fear
and a child’s smile.

Rain

(Image from www.rossphillips.net)

Before tropical storm Ondoy/Ketsana gave Luzon island in the Philippines its worst flooding in memory, I had written down Rain. Whatever relation you may find in this particular verse with the storm in question is totally unintended.

Needles fall, piercing leaves
down roots of memory ghosts.
Pain, guilty moves, singling out
the skin of Avalon’s wounds.
Luck, a hook on string,
waiting for the bug
dumb to vision quest.

It doesn’t last,
this deluge refused
Nirvana’s iconoclast.
The ground still thirsts
heaven won’t fill up.
The sun doesn’t shine today,
it tires of unceasing play.

The Rain Falling

The rain falling
on everything
is the only sound
I would like to hear,
drowning out thoughts,
killing the feeling.
Falling down and falling
in love again
are the same.
You feel pain,
regret too late.
You are in this
for the pleasure,
ending up
with the torment.
Your soul feels
the warmth
of hell’s flames
nipping at your feet.
She was always like this, sweet and bitter in equal woman-child parts.
You sought to play, never expecting to pay the price of a flood of fear
and lust. The rain keeps falling. I can still hear my heart beat.