from my window…

from my window
i see a world
you do not see
i see madmen
in the street
selling candy-coated nightmares
on corporate auction blocks
for the mere price of your soul
and hear the sounds
streaming from city streets
that go unheard
when children cry
in the night
with parental fright
praying for morning’s light
to embrace the sight
of an unlocked door
into a world most fear
you did not hear
the shallow breaths of fear
throughout the night
reverberating
like waves of tears
an unwanted
endowment
nor did you feel
the touch of love
that a poet knows
sometimes in dreams
sometimes savored
on passion’s bed
in a candle lit room
a love
you
have always
sought
and
have not
found

 

My friend Toni Cross has presented another challenge photograph for me, but his one is very special since it is a photograph of her…how does one poet begin to capture even a fragment of another poet’s spirit within the lines of a poem?  Not sure that I have an answer…but here is my attempt to convey a some small portion of the spirit that I have seen in her writing.  I hope that she will approve of what I have attempted.

america’s song…

like those before me
i too hear america sing
but from here it sounds
like the rhythmical
sputtering of guns
along the city streets
with a chorus of hissing
tear gas and crackling
of human bonfires
with extra verses of
fusty law-and-order
hail-hail the gang’s all here
god bless ye merry gentlemen
peace on earth
good will to
all
men