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 have paved

  Conflicts between people of so called "mettle" Their propensity for violence, their thirst for blood never gets satisfied As the dust settles The innocent victims lay there, putrefied and petrified. They scar the land and the lives of the witnesses There is absolutely no support  For the people ready to purport Instead, they are ended by the witless. The reports, for a while are pedantic Then they turn nebulous The people seeking justice are frantic But the result is obvious. The countries involved are considered to be paragon But certain deeds of theirs are regarded as minuscules The nascent rising voices get immediately put down As the living souls turn into ghouls.. Does the world have any more hope Does the penchant for violence still exist Do the people still have the courage to repudiate the evils Is there any hope for these misanthropes

  A band of vermillion Tearing open the blue sky The waves sound like 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.

  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.

  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.

  A few years is all it is Then we fall into a never ending abyss Only a few to tell our story Our final moments happy, sad or gory Only our names remembered All our ties with the world forever severed Why hold on then,  Just float away in a far off dren The people you've made memories with Not all of it was just filth Your deeds, euphoric and sober Decide where you go after you cross over Some want to go to Mars I just want to be with Him among the stars