Daffodils rise and life begins anew,

Spring time, this time

Is full of sunshine rather than sorrow.

That will be left behind, to pick up again




See those Swans at window?

See those Swans at the window?
She said.

They’re stuck in Ice cold waters,
Prickly feathers, frozen
But still gentle- My ‘Friend’.

As they tickle you in your sleep,
Floating into Blue.

Prey awaken as strong necks,
Cuddled each other to sleep.
One half for you, one half for me.

Nestling, lulling white hairs into that-
Good Night.

Goosebumps rippling in a circle,
Blood Tight.

Those Swans at the window
Their sailing around the world,
With one chipped wing
Each- a pair of eyes,
Shared between the two.
One half for me and one half for you.

Thick bottoms,
Circling, circling with no
Guided by the smell, the hope

Swimming with no compass now,
Sailing slowly
The doom.

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Dead Birds

heavenDead Birds

Empty words,
Dying like fleeting words,
Plummeting to the ground
Abseiling, curtailing
The grey concrete beneath
No longer bound to the skies.

Their previous masters, our fathers
The Saints, having too fallen into their self-dug/proclaimed graves,
Martyrs, who thought they were so profound
Have melted
Into the niches in the walls.
Pink, malign residue peels off of plaster
Paper skin shredded like wax- at the spur of
The Devils heated iron rod.