Dignity in Loving [comma]

featured in the poetry forum January 21, 2019  :: 0 comments

catching a glimpse
a train window smear
catching a glimpse
that certain face
her golden hair, prism’s light
divided against itself

magazine posters or dreams of avarice
the watched watching briefly,
girls and men stumble
pushing prams and talking,
casting poses for attention
pausing for the world to take note,

have i seen the face before?
been caught looking,
uneager to return the stare
doubt and uncertainty,
make my heart beat faster,
struggling to be free

she wore a cocked hat, that
certain parting of her hair;
copied in posters, hairdressers,
the train leaving the station,
she does, she turns to look up at me,
i am nothing more

gossiping mothers, children skipping
awaken world! the dull green
and useless lives, the
cemented over aerodrome,
future’s promise in childhood so
sweet, ages sour in this the year

into an introspection of a printed
circuit, appearance is being;
the stars as curtain decorations
on the permanently falling stage,
drift away from me; for i am not moving
wave to me? leaving, leaving.

editors note:

Oh, to be more; to be exclamation point, noticed and taken away for more than the day. (We welcome David to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

the beautiful people

featured in the poetry forum February 5, 2018  :: 0 comments

the beautiful people
visit hairdressing saloons
criss-cross their feet, in relaxed posture
laugh at the stylist’s sly comment

the beautiful people
link elbows in human chains
dance across busy roads, gaily
ignoring puddles of rain

the beautiful people
sail-through high pressure jobs
air-kiss their way to the top,
delighting even the office-cleaners

the beautiful people
fall out of love as easy as breathing
leave a wreckage of lives in their wake
and continue on, with even less than a sigh.

editors note:

Beholding beauty for what it’s not. – mh clay

Blind

featured in the poetry forum December 5, 2017  :: 0 comments

i can’t see no vision i’m blinded
i see:
Houston in rivers,
the whiteman and blackman.

swimming in a pearl of sot.

looking out! the news, worldwide is about.

but i don’t live there.

i live in Freetown, Sierra Leone
i live in Karachi, Pakistan
i live where the dying are.

i am drowning and i am dying.
my skin is too grey or black,
my pocketbook is too unfilled

Lloyd’s insurance of last resort
will never cover me.
i’m too dirty, polluted, worthless.

I Am the First; soon, you will suffer this way too.

editors note:

Don’t turn a blind eye; lest, from this first come many… – mh clay