Weary-eyed Vigil

Incredulous as it might seem, 
There’s a part of us 
That never sleeps at night; 

It watches over the other parts 
To keep them from falling 
Into a deep, interminable trance— 

Trust me. I’ve been there and back. 

Nebulas

Crux: 

To far too many, 
Apparently not enough 

Stars falling 

To pinpoint the heart 
Of the matter. 

A Poem Should Be (12)

Both ingenious and ingenuous, 
Should it not? 

Like our Spot here picking 
A cool shady spot 
When it’s sizzling 

And curled up 
On steaming hot asphalt 
When it’s not. 

Gravitational Pull

Believe it or not, 

What he wanted always fell 
Within reach or it did not, 

And he always rose 
To the occasion, 

Whether it was what 
He wanted or not. 

Aphrodite Awash in the Limelight

When she crawled out dripping 
Wet from the primordial slime and bared sharp 
Beckoning phosphorescent teeth, 
Those who went gaga moonstruck

On the strand moved ever closer, 
Took the plunge and grunted 
They had never before been 
Blinded, sucked in by a more wondrous sight. 

The others stranded in the forlorn hinterland 
Had to make do with a less fortuitous fate— 
Such light as they bathed in was toothless, 
A gaping black hole appearing eons too late. 

How to Stop Churning out Garbage Ad Infinitum

If it smells bad, don’t you 

Recycle it. 

Upon My Word

Such silence 

Building up unbearable 

Cornerstones to speak of 

Silence holding up each word.