Poetry

City 

Two urban areas, 

photographed-black and white or color. 

Two different locations, 

separated by vast distance. 

Up close images placed side-by-side. 

One would see no difference. 

Collapsed buildings, 

burned. 

Smoke and fire, 

fire and tears raging, 

ash, 

upside down cars 

in the streets. 

In both places, 

hope has fled. 

Destruction, desolation: 

In Kathmandu by the hand of God, 

In Baltimore by the hand of man. 

Considerations 

Beauty within peace, 

These things I consider: 

Perceiving the swimming leadership of the sun, 

leaving shadows in its wake. 

Observing degrees of luminosity 

from the unhidden path of moonlight. 

Relishing the sunny smiles of children, 

still innocent, 

before learning the meaning of vulgar words. 

Friends and family of many flavors, 

a trail of love and fellowship. 

Finding triumph in a fair-minded purpose, 

betterment. 

Championing truth, 

indestructible and brave

from a righteous heart. 

The elegance of beauty and peacefulness, 

neatly intertwined. 

Prison’s Prison 

Careful what you wish for. 

The Devil’s bargain does not sound strange. 

It seems promising 

until those jail cell doors clank shut, 

useless remorse, starting and lingering. 

Assume no hope. 

Revealed cells, 

the short green mile, 

the strong antiseptic smell of bleach like on bathroom tiles. 

You join the tears of night, 

constant, 

meant to relieve guilty pasts, 

no such undoing. 

Growing up wrong offers no excuse. 

There is coupled: 

man’s justice and nature’s agreement sealed behind iron bars. 

Your need to take life, 

the beast having underwritten the hand you were dealt