angst is what keeps me going,,

fears hoist me up like bones

nought more live to my ears

than the dirge dread intones

yes, I've read those books on

the dark influence of stress,

yet, which school to follow?

I'm more confused, not less

finally I plumped for Sigmund,

he uses my curlers for a perch,

common sense is his forte and

he saved me years of research

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This poem is for all those who find this life a trial. Keep on keeping on, as someone once remarked.

Buried in the Sunlight

Eleanor played the pipes as a piper should,

flying light with grace and flair and swing,

with airs like a wind band in the deep greenwood:

dancing her careless heart towards an Appalachian spring.

All who knew her, all for whom her life seemed bles...

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Barely living through the dance of night

Tiger-stripe trapeze in savage growl

Swiss diligence with eerie eyes

From corridors of incandescence

To alleyways of guttered candles

Room with nothing but lonely memories

Ghosts, horror, the present, the past.

Everything changes. Nothing changes

Memories and wishes.

Two children play in the ashes

Where...

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