The Coward and Woe (Part I)

The sea bit down with a crashing frown
On the strangest shore it ever found.
Where so many things had been left to drown
In a deep tooth mark torn in the ground
A life popped up this time around.

A group of men who’d never been
Beyond their town’s enchanting end
Scooped that baby up and grinned:
“What heroes we are!  We’ve done it again!
Raise the town poet, he’s ballads to pen!”

They left her alone at the coward’s home
‘Cause a strong YES means never a no.
He opened his door, cautious and slow,
With worry aswhirl in his hum-drum dome
And gave her the most beautiful name of Woe.

Mind your rights and love your wrongs.
Whatever shore you’re stranded on,
Everything belongs.

Many Souls

I have many souls,
I am many things.
My lives are mites and rats
And queens and their kings.
Called Goliath and David
And the stone that he slings,
I am three little piggies
And the big bad who sings.
My I’s are dumb and wise,
One me heals, the next one stings.
I as snail hides from the bird
But me as tiger quickly springs.

I fight myself a lot,
It’s crowded in the wings,
But when I’m all together
You should hear the truth that rings.

Baby Zebra

Have you ever wished to win something wild?
Invite in the perfectly un-styled?

Just outside our door this morning
We found with brightest black and white adorning
A baby zebra, ripe and ready for adoring.

(Lion may be king but it doesn’t take much to convince
That zebra is the rather more dapper royal prince.)

We rushily ushered him in and tried
To feed him what the vet said, but the vet lied.
Zebras don’t like grass, ours went straight for the trash,
Merrily munching on mixed muck and moldy mash.
We took him for a trot and snuggled for a nap,
But he must have thought the bath a trap!
He lit us up with the most fantastic funk!

Baby zebra?! That’s a full-grown skunk!

Baby Zebra

Illustration by Hubert

Running Out of Heart to Break

I’m running out of heart to break.
Maybe you could take the rest?
I feel it might be best if I don’t feel.
The too cruel real wears me down and out.

Never hold a doubt that I am with you.
When you think you’re through and done,
When the worst finds fun in tearing you apart,
Know that I have heart to share.

Is it fair for me to thieve?

Please listen and believe what I say:
A loving heart at play with another
Hearty lover can only grow to more.

Then let the lovelies pour on the rout!

A Painter Paints

Casso grabbed her brush,
Tossed on a top hat,
Then ran off to rough up the flat.

She picked up her paint,
Gave it a good stir,
Then went to work in a blur.

Just looking at an office
You could feel her get inspired.
She thought – differences should meet
And you look awful tired,
Let’s paint you up in something sweet -
Then grabbed a mug of mint tea treat
And offered that office a refreshing drink,
Wiping away the doldrums stink.

The graveyard got a coat
Of lively marching bands.
The mayor can now gloat
Over heaps of helping hands.

She painted children with the Bering Sea,
The smell of flowers with the number 3,
And smeered the thought of stopping with glee.

Though far past just begun,
Casso’s goal never was, “I won!”
She rests in do instead of done.

Slipping Through the Under

We won’t await the wakeful, they only know to rise.
We’re slipping through the under in ways the wary wise
Can only but despise when paralyzed by open eyes.
I’ve seen many ends and am glad for my demise.

Feel whatever fear you like, nightmares must be met.
They bring fire and ice, to destroy must be nice, let them set
Themselves upon themselves so threat goes down to threat.
We have no use for emptiness and will not join in debt.

We push the storming star up the morning stair.
The day must dawn, but as for us the passing there
Is not quite wrong yet still seems to give a scare.
Whatever commonness we share with half-imagined frights – We care.