Short Poems – The Poetry Of J.P.

Blacker Than Black

Reading the newspaper:
It said, new material blacker

Liberty’s wields her sword
in most imperceptible ways,

To destroy is to be human,
we’d sell the sun to buy a candle;

The Reaper’s cloak swooshes across the road.
A feeling of doom sweeps over my bones,
I hear the sound of sharpening up in my throat,

The re-inspection
of words, that were his, or his,
is often entombed
in the backlash

Flower,
perfect pearl blue.

Ever since the wolf was at the front door,
we’ve build our lives with bricks,

The heart is a hunter searching
before the dead of winter has melted;

Mother Teresa sent her message out
in the bent and broken bodies
writhing as fuel to fill her soul

The world is a gamble,
In jest we place our bets
and wink at destiny
as hopeful players do
in this the game of craps.