APPARITION

It was an almost

Broken-down door

That loomed,

Standing

Between me

And something..

Something…

I was not sure.

It stood,

Groaning

Against the weight 

Of the wind;

A door

Hanging loose

On its hinges

The damp earth

Had made a feast 

Of the red-wood

And 

The rot on the inside

Could be seen

In ghastly patches

On the outside

It stood,

Rattling

Against the force

Of an unruly wind

A door

Threatening to break

From its hinges

It stood,

 Strong

In its obvious fragility

And I 

Drew back -

Too scared

 To touch

A mightier wind

Rose

Hauling me against it,

And as

I fell through

…Stunned that 

The door still stood

I wondered…

If

The door was

The apparition

….

Or

I was.

ART ON THE ARTIST

It

Kept asking and asking

For

Some kind of passion

To

Ripple through it

In

Heated, forceful waves,

O

My perfectly importunate heart!

In a coy, meandering dance

This

Flowing lava of my soul

Seeps in 

Then out

 Onto everything

I

Touch

It 

Tells me: 

“Cry out if you must,

Lie here in 

Silence

 If you can,

But 

Let me 

Break you

Along with 

This antique box of

Colours

Let me 

Paint your world

In gaiety”

I cannot refuse

What engulfs me

So

I am unable to resist

This sweet assault

To my soul

The grand master

Of art

Works on the artist’s heart

And the art of the artist

Is now soaked in 

Blood 

O blessed importunity!

NOT A SINGLE TEAR

I heard that life

Beyond this place

Is a constant celebration:

Reunions

By the second,

Hugs sent round,

Memories shared.

I know you'll wait

For me

So we walk

In gardens of flowers

Never before seen

So we talk,

So we catch up.

But

What do I tell you

When we meet?

How the world got darker?

How passions grew stronger?

How new things

Quickly

Became

Old?

Or 

How I 

Never

Mourned 

You?