The other day, I was going through some old files, and surprisingly, came across two poems I’d apparently written some years ago. Though once reintroduced to them, I vaguely remembered writing them—but I’d forgotten all about them since.

Of course, I already published one of my poems—THE WALL (circa 1987)—here on my blog (along with an experiment in micro-fiction, which can often resemble poetry), but I thought I’d re-publish THE WALL here, along with the two others I recently stumbled across:

It Would Seem
July 2015

the cold, bitter air
the sullen gray sky, angry
yet the birdsong in the trees
the ballet of butterflies on the flowers

the snarled traffic, horns blaring
the silent cursing, gesturing behind glass
yet the delightful laughter of children playing
the pretty girl waiting for the bus

this contrast, this duality
the choice is ours
an easy one, it would seem
it would seem

The Fix
(date unknown)

squeak, squeak
something not working
in need of repair

squeak, squeak
a man in his garage
finding a way to fix it

squeak, squeak
he turns this way and that
as if surveying his shop

there, finally stopping
finally ending

one last turn
it tightens and halts

the rope stills, the rafter settles
the problem now suspended


we never quite recover
from our very first lover
the only one before THE WALL

love started in vain
ended in pain
setting the pace for them all

each a stab to the heart
each tears us apart
we swear it won’t happen again

bricks cast in fears
mortar born of tears
let the lifetime construction begin

for each trial, an error
to love becomes terror
another brick, another trowel of mortar

soon THE WALL surrounds us
keeps out those around us
insanity lurks on the border…

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