Lament

writer's block
around the clock
at night in bed
my muse is dead
what comes out now
is dribble I vow
it needles me
as I foresee
my empty page
scribbled and vague
or even worse
inane verse
i search in vain
to end this pain
i've paid my dues
return my muse

plagiarism

i'm seeing another woman

and we're on our way

to go beyond the borders

that you painted grey

its not a dream sequence
though the lines are blurry
this whiskey laced night
is going awry

Tiger Tiger Burning Bright

stripes on the bedsheet
where the moonlight creeps
through the closed slats
of the cheap plastic sheet

stripes on the striped cat
who pines alone
for the taste of blood
she has recently known

striped are her feelings
one black one white
pulling her , needling,
not giving her respite

Tonight the striped cat
stays wide awake
hoping the hunger
will abate and forsake