AT THIS MOMENT (FIVE MINUTES AGO)

at this moment,
five minutes ago,

there were a number of things
i wanted you to know-

but i thought i’d save them for
later,

and merely send you
three

points of view, I hope you’re
better,

and I sure do hope they make you think of
me.

tell me what you think of
them

tell me what you
do

if your point naught one percent
chance

does come
through

(Interlude)

thinking of you now at
length,

War clouds are gathering and covering the sun-
War clouds, collecting one by one;
And, though they may avert a battle in a distant sea,
Still, war clouds a-gather, oh together, over me

War clouds are gathering and filling up the sky:
War clouds that darken by and by…
Out in the wilderness, young girls must lose their lives
At the altar of the sanctimonious Sacrifice of Wives,
At the Martyrdom of Motherhood, ensnared in webs and lies…

.
.
PARTING SONG (WHY IS IT?)

Why is it that I must always end the things I start?
Why am I the only one who takes these things to heart?
And why is it that you don't feel a part of what I feel?
And can you tell me if my hurt is real?

walking with Wõden

weir-witched warlocks
wearily walking ways
where Wõden whisked
weathered wherewithal
wondering -- wistfully why --

wailing waifs wager
wadded walleted wafers
wanting wanton wands
whose waywardness

waives wakeful walls --

where warlike wardens
warn warmed-over witnesses
washing warrior's warships
with wary wargs

.
.
FAREWELL TO JUNE, FAREWELL IN MARCH

The Colonel’s gone:
There’s an old lady all alone
And so forlorn;
Suddenly, with him not there
She’s past her prime:
Out of tune and out of breath
And out of time…

And her days drag on and on…
And her nights are, oh, so long...
She remembers days in 'Doon:
Stairwells and starch,
Farewells in March,
Farewell to June!

Why, do I love you, so?
That's the question you ask, each day;
and, it seems as though,
I don't even know,
because I can't think of anything, to say!

It occurred to me to try...what the hell!
I will answer the question you ask;
in deep love, I fell
so, I am, pretell,
the only one, who could accomplish this task.

.
.
THEY SAY THERE'S AN ARROW

They say there's an arrow
That seeks out the heart
Of a man who profanes in the West-
We've been silent so long,
But now, in guise of a song,
This man puts all of our patience to test...

And, if Tolerance is the name of the game,
Then, the end of your game is in sight;
What should be no surprise is:
If you make compromises,
You writers might as well tempt Righteous Might...

Here comes the thunder
Zeus is angry with his bride
Hera is crying

Through the trees gentle Nyx overleaps
Haunting white huddles in sleepy dells
Enfolding softly the silver bells
Moving soundless as the dew creeps

Infused mist glows silver in Selene
Silent sentinels stand in ghost seas
Tendrills of fog curl delicately
Yearning to wake from this shrouded dream

Deftly now Nyx surrenders the night
Aurora glides in her chariot drawn
Waking the dell with the hymns of morn
Nebulous colours herald the light

-- by Krieger Monigatti aka Tragic_Romeo aka Orestes

My shattered dreams
With scolded folds,
Conecrate inside me,
Terrified night.
In desolation, I am left
Soaked in water from head
To toe. My heart etched in
Retention anguish, a tormented
Soul on the loose. Formation of
Age. My torture never ceases.,
Bidding begun. My soul cries for relief.
There is. . . .
No relief for shattered dreams.