Corona Flare

fables of pandemic unfold

more monsters than gods

take to visual stage

casting blame stones

impaled on their own arrogance

desperate to be seen

as the one

not concerned with people

fleshy pulp of the continent

oozing red into their eyes and hearts

more pledges of gold

in coffers in pockets

skin slaves toil

frontline fodder

without health armistice

broken promises

soiled memories

of what was and still

could of been

when it’s over

people will rise

staves and torches

battering the ivory towers

hoping this time

it will change

geometrics and some physical optics

he woke
he pissed
he smoked,
sat at the desk as others
before him,
heavy oak resonance,
with politicknife would cut policy
it had become about color,
the blue the yellow
strove to adjust to each other,
the red the green
so incompatible,
clarity was needed in misdirection
politicknife more palette than blade
scraped bluntly over canvas
to portray the country
texture and relief,
some of it muddied
stained like shit on a public toilet,
he spoke on TV
bright suited as a clown
body language and gestures
seen and felt as colors of betrayal
it was beyond functionalism
and wider knowledge
colors bled
every perception was not upheld,
people took to tree lined avenues
beneath autumn auburn,
held poster paint placards
colors adjusted
all attitudes changed,
again at his desk
looking at errors of doctrine,
the religious confined to sunday
men of friday peace,
zealots who ranted for any god
they where unifying
he felt afraid,
colors that should never combine
on palette or canvas,
became alive,
betrayed inside government halls,
closed eyes so that the brightness
would not be visible,
humanities noose
had underwritten his future,
rainbows can be clutched
in eager hands and each strand
peeled apart
like shotgun pellets,
reflected refracted
no more distinction
it was over,
slashing the canvas
pissed over it
pouring gasoline
it burned,
defeat knew a cell door
and he was content,
within gray and bleak darkness
color could not and would not intrude
now he felt alive

poetry , poem

defects of the elephant crush many

shadows standing empty

as we moved from the tree,

he worked with sweat for bread,

she wore only handmade dresses

fabric accumulated from a saving mother,

he had written to her heart

as it understood the depth

that his motive went to,

every day in lengthy plan

hours conceived into moments

stolen away from the factory

to the hill,

sanctuary of silence from the state

propaganda and revolution,

fresh baked filled the air with a resonance,

they as patriots fervent as they are lovers,

planned wedding and battle

as an intertwined plan,

analogy of expectation

that had no sourness,

ignore siting safe indoors

sound the bells of union,

warm tingle of happiness

before the steely clamor

of guns

spring-1935 kuzma petrov-vodin

magpie tales statue stamp 185


Marvellous Breath

the foetus hired by

a different ideal,

had a bigger importance

than life,

created as a fancy

payment to democracy,

to pave a way

for laborers seeking

more than death,

with unblemished mind

like a cherry in the beak

of a thirsting bird,

words come on the

quiet wind,

mother feels you

wake and sleep

birth and dawn akin,

to be laid in a basket

of flowers,

bright eyes

changing wind

to laughter,

there would be

no more fallen

on foreign fields

leaves left on the surface

of a swift stream,

lips reach to the eclipse

there is other life

abide the balm that now

oils your body,

first voice the only voice

from subtle throat,

a silver link

for tender distances,

the soul will surmise

a transition,

surrender beauty

bring communal tranquility,

kiss mothers breast

milk not sunburnt wheat

tasted there,

all is complete

democracy feels

a quenchless spring

unlittered by irony