Joe's Slate

  I was not like your other inamoratos I was there during your highs and lows. Though you did not give the others a second glance I wasn't offered a single chance. Your denial made the others heart ache But a single whiff of your hair and my day was made. Grey-green eyes with a cat like glow The inner child is masked and does not show. But now as I put the bouquet on your resting grave I think about the path, together we could pave.

  A band of vermillion Tearing open the blue sky The waves sounding a lion Deep gashes on the rocks, where the water oscillates by and by. The expanse of blue, peppered with the gliding birds Unaware of what the next day brings The sky bleeds as the great inferno burns through Searing the clouds as it makes its way Finally, hiding behind the vast expanse of sea As the world bids farewell to yet another day.

 Draw out the arrow of lamentation However painful it may be It doesn't matter to the raven Where it kith or kin may be. Choose today, I implore you all Whether to be wiser than the crow Or succumb as grief makes you fall.

  The little boy with his tousled, curly locks Revelling in his throne of big and small rocks; Underneath his eternally closed lips, A pair of pearly whites with a little dip. Droops over my entrance His rations, depends upon emotions and the heavens Gawking at the floral parade outside Rules don't apply to him, nor does he abide. A vehement little thing he is Draped only with what used to be a white overall There is no sound from him, not even a guffaw. The so called 'throne' he has made Is his only pride and joy; During downpour and dark He takes shelter with all the creatures of Noah's ark. The brevity of human life He never fails to defy Not a care in the world, not a sacrifice Not worried about his strength or his vice. No one goes near this little boy And he thinks it is better that way His only pride and joy The little brats might splay. This pathetic little boy Guards the street at night Aware of every scream and blight.

  She's been to almost every part of the world Around the world in 80 years This is my prediction, mark my word It's her birthday now, give three cheers A whole lot artistic A little bit sarcastic  Her way of thinking a tad bit ballistic The intention, I believe is sadistic Burying her head inside books And not much of a talker Judging by her looks And not much of a walker A soft spot she holds For all creatures great and small When annoyed, her tongue she lolls Always never ready for a brawl She's been to almost every part of the world Around the world in 80 years This is my prediction, mark my word It's her birthday now, give three cheers

  Displaced communities in a displaced land Their very origins, unbeknownst The arrogance and ego of man But at what cost The divine forces at work here Something to respect and something to fear Too powerful for man to combat Nature finally taking back the habitat Only a few extra drops of rain And more than hundreds get slain It can cause such a catastrophe When we witness such a diastrophe What else can we do but sit and watch And pray that nature doesn't turn it up a notch.