Sometimes, more so than often,
I feel I’m but a moon at noon,
That somber rump dumb & forgotten
that shows no oomph… or even
too like a cockatoo whose wings Time clips
& burqa-veils quick its flings ‘neath the cage -
Eclipsed & unassuaged - yet still my belief’s,
though forced to squawk with little relief,
somewhere, somehow my soul will rise.
My heart just needs a surprise. Palpitations!
one more excitement
t’dredge the inspirations
drowning in my cranium’s cement:
Their razzle-dazzle like fireworks
in the soggy solar system
of my spirit so frazzled, so spent.