what is the measure of sorrow
is there a standard unit
against which we may rule
an overladen mind
and a heart demolished

graphing with infinite precision
each shattered hope
and marking the dimensions
of dreams ground to dust

are tears numbered
or more properly
and accurately accounted
by volume
or weight

shall we assign a value
on a sliding scale
to the mutilation
of a human soul

can we make comparison
among various torments
or attempt to visualize
in a chart of bright colors
splashed on a screen
the lifelessness of one person
to that of another

is despair loss
or hope denied
might it be joy withheld

does suffering
have weight and volume
that we might
determine its mass

is it instead a void
where something which
was present
has been removed

is it possible to create
an image of wretchedness

a ruined and rotting
playground of lost innocence

a charred and crumbled husk
of a home shattered

an arid uninhabitable waste
of aspirations unbirthed

with what pigment
shall we produce such art
which color wheel
will be used

in what earthly perdition
are the gauges found
reading the depth of misery
or the height of anguish

what is the magnitude
of the grief
the touchstone of devastation
against which all other grief
must be measured

When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.

“where summer’s bronzes dull and sink”

the trees are like
wet coat hangers,
holding up the leaves,

my cat is frosty like
an october morn,
sleeping on the sill,

everything is dripping
like a wet pair of
jeans taken out of the wash,

the sky wears its greys
of cloud, dim and dramatic
it opens summer eyes.

good news in what is now called the energy zone in heaven and was called previously the artichoke under a forgotten prison beneath artichoke in heaven they have recently found forgotten books lost to the world and to heaven for thousands of years. their titles were as follows :


ian of china

life is always to be lived (4 copies only handwritten)
i will always be the husband of beth (chinese 400 copies handwritten)
love will always be my heart (4 copies handwritten)
love will never ever leave our lives (3 copies handwritten)
love is so pretty we want to enjoy it (200 bc 3 copies handwritten)

michael of constantine

all of us together (2 copies handwritten)
life is always life (4 copies handwritten)
treasure is my world (1 copy handwritten)

jim of persia

i am the one you want to love (5 copies handwritten)
love is always what we need (4 copies handwritten)
always always be kind (12 copies handwritten)
love is like a love (7 copies handwritten)
people should be friends (4 copies)
please try to be quiet (4 copies handwritten)
always be attractive if you can (5 copies handwritten)
i want to love my wife and you need to accept that fact (3 copies handwritten.)

the finding of these books gives me more confidence that the poetry i have written this time will survive my death and be remembered and is good news for everyone who loves books. these topics may seem cliched today but when written they were cutting edge of the thinking at that time.

We hadn’t realised…

That we spoke of love
that was enshrouded
by child-like naïveté.

We had then,
fire in our hearts,
sparks in our eyes
and clouds in our heads

but

marbles in our mouths.