Oldtimer

Leave me as I am, my child— 

Still holding on 

Like a raindrop on a limb. 

Definitely Not Lemmings #45

Thanks to Tracy DiPiazza for signing on--she has some real gems on view here.

Full Circle

vain

glorious immovable fool, 

stand under this marble 

moon long enough 

and you’ll become— 

what else—

a statue. 

Angel of Mourning

The magpie keeps what too easily 

The nesting dove forgets— 

A watchful eye out for what appears 

To be more than just 

A dawning of wings. 

Wonderful to Be Here, My Love

As it was many years ago, seeing 

The couple that seemed old 

To us then, wondering what it was 

He was saying as they walked 

Arm in arm round the Parthenon, 

When he squeezed her hand 

And she answered yes dear, 

Clearly it must have been 

A day much like this one. 

Wary of Being Panned in Public, Publius Ovidius Naso Lambasts Himself Piteously, though Still Failing to Abort the Metamorphoses of the Masses Brought on by the Likes of One Alfredius E. Neumano, Roman Gadfly

Spare the rod? Holy Jupiter, are you mad, 

Ovidius? Shove that spit into that kid before

He turns us all into fawning muttonheads. 

In Transit

recently departed bus 

passenger gone but 

these handles on 

seat back still 

warm to touch 

Sirocco over Hellas

Muammar, 

If you were here I would tell you 

Today it rained buckets of red 

Dust brought from that distant 

Desert of your late despotat— 

A not unusual phenomenon when one considers

That maddening south wind blows hard 

Enough to take one’s head off. 

Rainbow

So bewildering 

To follow the spectrum 

Of the spirit, I was walking in 

Iridescent rain and thought I was 

Walking towards it. 

Being Swept off My Feet

Do I hear folly calling me again in guise of air? 

Well, blow me down—how was it I was unaware 

A whirlwind muse kept my frenzy hidden there. 

Stargazers

Not there 

Where we can be 

Seen but over here 

In this little corner of the world 

Where the stars lead 

To stairs that are invisible. 

Long Distance Runner Nearing Finish Line

Though you can’t make anything out yet, 

Near as the nearest phone booth, 

Someone’s making an emergency call.

Sleepwalker's Somniloquy

Don’t tell me 

Better to wake dreaming 

Than dream waking— 

I know. 

NB: It’s Vazambam's post number 1000 and time to express my thanks to all those who have been generous with their comments and/or silent presence over these past three-and-a-half years; this blog has brought me in touch with many tremendously gifted people I’d never have dreamed of meeting had I not started it and I’m grateful—just wanted you to know.

Brainstorm after Dry Spell

Mind’s eye spies gusher in olives 

After cleansing rain leaves oil slick.

Out-of-the-box Thinking Straight from the Centaur's Mouth

What are you looking at, buster? It happens 

I was years ahead of my time so 

If you think you’re a forerunner, 

Sink your teeth into this— 

My head could’ve been a horse’s ass 

Just like yours, running backwards. 

Late Winter Metamorphoses

This motionless old woman 

Looks like nothing so much 

As a lone black coat left on a bench. 

But she stirs 

As I approach and notice a grey blur 

Departing her left shoulder—a large locust 

Now fully airborne, heading I think, for the sun. 

Foolproof Modus Operandi

Just keep saying you’re nobody’s fool

Making sure nobody’s around to prove it.