Even Keeled

We used to keep both eyes
on the parting crusaders
and litigate  
their multiple choice spells
gone  terribly  wrong
a couple of mutual oaths
had been left aside
for the mourners to petrify and enchant
away from the pebble-glass pavement.
Through the void of an unpatched infancy
I’ve been held prisoner
under a rainless cloud,
foreseeing the undisturbed stare of a young  angel,
cast down to the ground,
out of a heaven of infinite grace,
able to re-immerse in a deserved tranquility,
whose legacy of mundane perfection,
is willing to exorcise  the fairy-tale demons
and gladly unravel
an apologetic mystery.

An answer is in the heartfelt prayers or a first-person narrative.


The divine effigy of a curtain,
facing the freezing grounds
on its right way
to secure a mystic temptation
in the prodigal presence of a silent apprentice,
playing God.
The rolling-down shutter
unleashes the hazard of a wicked game
whose betrayed impatience
reduces the blinding sunset to pain;
Let’s use its deafening light
to shield the pitch black horizon
and to fill in, 
as we once did,
the idle blanks of a historic tempest.


Attempted Bargain

What if I told you that vanity
Would cave in your poetic refuge,
performing a professed  bravery -
whose selfless searches
and holy wounds -
have been sinned against eversince?
What if I followed you home
to recount  the sorrowful journey,
the flawless green seasons
running dry, each step
of the narrowing passageway,
enveloped in a slow-melting darkness
and flaming oaths
of an overheard serenade?
What if
the pious mercy of the defeated
was not felt in vain?
Would  you  take a step back
and allow  their  long-term surrender
to dissolve the  improvised  maze
platonically taken for an honest mistake? 


In Perfect Unison

Both son and daughter figures are gathered here
To have their rose-colored lenses removed
Then, from close range,
The eligible procrastinators will gloss over
their narcissistic, mind-blowing words,
with water-resistant tears.
“An in-law is better than an outlaw -
though some flashbacks may be poisoned
to death.”   …    “A panacea is always abused
by those witnessing a potential come back.”
For heaven’s sake, we shouldn’t be waiting,
by the edge of  these three suspension points!
This whole time,
The short-lived ripples have faded away,
Creating an illusion of sensory turbulence
in the course of a devious life game.
An embraced patience keeps pace
With a mental anathema:
Across the narrow paths and alleys and backstreets,
The innuendos are too busy to speak volumes
Ultimately, they have a consensus to reach.