The scent of jasmine

fills the room

The heavy air of night

breathes on my neck

The evening star

is shining in the sky

The taste of sweet brandy

 is given full consideration.


The scars of dreams tattered

the hopes sullen in night

Metaphors astray gone awry

without any meaning


The words of poets elusive

when caged in print

but stunning aspirations

are heralded.


The young children scream

and dance in the field

until night time rises


endless parade of fools;

the town crier is loudly

shouting the news of vision


God’s love and angel’s song;

the chanting of the monks

in caverns reverbing

throughout the valley



Calling streams of woods

and the wilderness

now the flitting passion fallen


The wild coyotes prowling

and the lions roaring

All the creatures passing


But azure clouds batter the trees

and asphalt dieties are

shouting out commands


The whips of soldiers

and chains of dealers

held at bay by dreams of peace.


The waters are cool running

the amicable beasts of burden

glistening in winter’s moon


but full circle the dreams

do drift in spite of us

and yet still the circle unbroken.



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crypticbard's picture

Am I right in presuming this

Am I right in presuming this was birthed in '92?  Love the concept of the "asphalt deities!" There is a saying we have, "if the trucks stop, Australia stops." Thanks for sharing.

here is poetry that doesn't always conform

georgeschaefer's picture

were you born yet?

were you born yet?