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How mad am I in your love,
How mad am I in your love?The world seems to be a photograph of yoursAnd you standing before me,I portraying youAnd you sitting as an art-model before meTo sketch, paint and portray.How mad am I in your love,How mad am I after youThat keep I thinking about you all the time,Fail I to forget you?Only…
A writer where hid he,
Moving from house to house,Place to placeUnder the protection,Escorted toUnder the guise ofA different name,The name changed toAnton JosephIn between Conrad and ChekovAnd this was the aftermathOf Satanic VersesAnd the fatwa upon himIssued toAnd he as a fugitive,A refugeeRunning for cover,Under the disguise ofAccompanied by protestors,Guards and security staff,Spies and intelligence fellowsAnd he remembering, reminiscing…
For the adman
The ads with wordsAttractive and meaningful.
The mountain gorillas of Rwanda
Sleeping and eating,Plucking leaves and eating,Frolicking and rollingAnd playingInto the wildFull of greenery.The gorillas,Gorillas of Rwanda,Dark and black,Human-like,Wild and aboriginal,Ethnic and tribalAnd mountainous gorillas,The gorillas of Rwanda.Walking on the foursWith a larger bodyThe gorillas,Gorillas blacklyAnd furred over the bodyThe humanoidsWild and woodland,Forested and aboriginal.
The House on the Hill
Mare’s Listeners and Hood’sI Remember, I Remember,A poem of remembrance and reckoning,Just like the house of Lamb inDream Children.
What it is dark will remain dark unto the last,
Let it beAs light comes dispelling it.Have you seen a dark girl,Not so much,But with a fine face-cutting?The heartful love, the loveful heart,Filled with love.