Patterns

For years I
people like me
very young and old
the sick and the dying
the scientists and priests
the nurturing and the kind
the lonely and the slaved
looked inside and out
to discover and
to decipher
patterns

I don’t
know why
they all needed
to solve these patterns
myself I know only wanted
to stop the crying
wishing that
I was never
born

Haiku

I free my macaw
It knows my ancestor's ghost
That palm smiles and cracks

Hands Full of Rocks and Grapes

I came back home with grapes and rocks.
Some smiled, I saw some too who frowned.
The grapes I picked up at the store.
The rocks I found along the way.
Perhaps some looked and thought: What for?
With hands full of assorted rocks...
But why that plastic bag of grapes?
What plans he got for these today?
For certain not to squash the grapes!
To play with rocks while eating grapes?
To play with grapes while eating rocks?
Perhaps this man is far from sound:
There's not a reason, we are sure,
To carry home those grapes and rocks.

Plus-One

This last Sunday I was the plus-one
So self-conscious I was half only 
Sam was there too although minus four
Saw him tear up back there on his phone
Phil was there plus two little ones
Who added up to pure shrieking fun
Tim was plus-one too but a new one
She used to be my one and only
Tanya a plus-one but all alone
Her partner as always a no-show
Chantelle for a change without her wine
Since her plus-one was zero point one
Zoe with another handsome one
Rated him of ten a twenty-one
The night was long and the maths confused
Ate and drank so much I left plus few
Yet I felt like a big fat zero
At home crying hard in the mirror
But next time there I'll try something new:
I'll count only me and only you

New Things

Once a year the rain
rinses the urn of our sins
Inside new things grow