Again With Gravity

Happiness takes its leave


As a tablecloth trick

By an amateur



Hope, desire and promises

As silver, crystal and china


Clashing again with gravity

The guy in the bow tie

His lovely assistant

The only half-expectant spectators

Shake their heads

Murmur something and linger

But they do move on

The curtain falls

Only I remain

Needing to know

What went wrong

Who’ll clean up this mess

Am I the only soul

Who stood in earnest?

Glass Gold Poets

You’ll be frozen in time
And if the past may serve
As an indication
I’ll be hurled forward, upward
With lightning’s speed

I at ninety-something years 
And you at something less
(Though an old soul nonetheless)
Staring at my golden scraps
Through your monocle glass

What words are we, then
What sounds, what sights
What wrongs did we choose to correct 
What hands did we not fail to hold
What love, of only this, I’m sure


There’s a grittiness first
A glassiness next
And the thought of its haunting doesn’t deter 

The almost too-sweet 
Yet the never-enough
Residue on the fingers proves there is more to come 

Boston Block

The walk upstairs to the house of old
A welcome sensation
For an instant I longed
To receive its four pillars -columns standing true, proud
As my own
The chipped whitewash there and warped, seeded glass panes
Endeared me more, if possible
Than the western orientation, southern gardens and Boston Block
My four-legged friend thought to stay
At last!
But inside, too-small appointments 

Glass Promise: A Haiku

 All I can ask you
For God’s sake please do grow up
For your sake grow up

It won’t come to pass
Neither the song nor the dance
Played out in your head

Those weren’t your slippers 
That was not your glass carriage
That was not your crown

You asked a promise
I’ll give you this: keep walking
The music will come