Perle Champion

poet of no mean

proportion short-lived van gogh

of words bent to self

destruction on paths

to knowing raw pleasure love

parallel of hate

lips a line drawn thin

no resemblance to a mouth

dry laughter dying

pall not here at all

lids distort the sound of eye

winter’s brittle bones

break on siren’s rocks

desperate to leave the bud

finally blossom

I moved soundlessly

yet ears perked at the gates swing

whooo whooo sounded near

who’s not the question

better to ask why instead

I’m not sure old one

yellow eyes took flight

winging up the small hillside

without wings I walked

far away and long
ago there’s a child I used
to know with wide eyes
asking why inside
not out loud but just the same
why we live why die

walking in the rain
jumped in puddles, caught raindrops
on my tongue, got soaked
warm raindrops falling
lured me down from my aerie
’tis all just a tease

Tuesdays child is full
of grace; this week I am she
magic surrounds me
money flows to me
everything falls into place
spring is poised to bloom

paths endlessly fork

our choices forge who we are

would we do better

or stop cold en route

given more time to ponder

insures us nothing

wisps of night fled dawn’s
stealthy step across the lawn’s
diadem strewn wood
i roam frost laced dreams
dancing with rainbow prisms
ephemeral gems

they’re gossamer thin
veils that hang between the worlds
magic and muggle.

opaque to mundanes
clear as glass to magic sense
real ephemeral

be eccentric now

wear purple polka dots stripes

run barefoot through rain

don’t wait for old age

they’ll just shake their heads and say

ah well, she’s just old