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Page 11


Poems about hope and love are listed on the index of poems

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The Rough Beast

You have made your way
from worm to man,
and much in you is still worm.

The rough beast turns
in restless slumber,
I feel the sky shutter
in its horrific dream;

Such great mouthings
of Right and Wrong,
since schickelgruber--
blood still dripping
from the stolid poppy.

The Children of the Dead

Trapped like flies
In sticky sap
The more they struggle,
The more they collapse;

Enveloped with guilt,
Like a burning ooze,
With no reprieve,
They endure the past;

Nowhere to go--
Neither forward
Nor back--

Like the desert,
Parched and cracked,
They can only wait
For the winter rain.

On the Fringe

Without my Cyclops vision,
Perverse dreams
And poetic flirtations,
Periodic stumbles,
Transparent confabulations,
Murky revelations,
Metaphorical ablations,
Clairvoyant obfuscations,
I would, I fear,
Only be
Mechanical inhalations.

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