scribbles2

It is still an unending source of surprise for me how a few scribbles on a blackboard  
or on a piece of paper can change the course of human affairs. —Stanislaw Ulam  
 
i  
in younger days, i wrote  
all my phantasies in sand  
but the waves ate  
every morsel,  
leaving no bones for me.  
went all my thoughts afloat  
to some strange and foreign land,  
every secret  
from my castles  
interred upon the sea.  
 
ii  
skywritings filled the clouds,  
rhymes that occupied the world,  
but no one cared  
for the musics  
of bamboo flutes flown high  
on scribbled wings.  enshrouds  
hills and vales each sonnet hurled,  
for rivals feared  
my eurhythmics  
on parchments of the sky.  
 
iii  
i've scribbled on your heart  
love that none could understand.  
when my shrewd days  
all the inks drank  
that made my verses sweet,  
why did you rip apart  
my fervent dreams, once so grand,  
and set ablaze  
my pinot blanc,  
leaving hope obsolete?  
 
iv  
last will and testament  
pencilled on a paper bag  
patty-crust crumbs  
bearing witness  
to anonymity.  
trapped in my tenement  
next to my jamaican flag  
my heart succumbs  
as earth's stillness  
brings sleep's tranquility.  
 
© Copyright 2020 March 15  
by Clyve A. Bowen♫