Poem: Muse of Madness


by Debi


muse of madnesswits are fresh
this muse of madness
on fine days
oft hid in coarse obscurity
the beauty of earth and heaven
behind the indelicacy of haze and unhappiness
breezy open spaces
in quiet restricted zones
long hours in the open air
ephemeral wastes beside bankrupt boxes
the direction of the wind
a deviation’s tempest
the blessed air
cursed heavens
the scent of flowers
the stench of rot and weed
the position of the sun
unemployed orb of light
the sun a kindly welcome
invisible moonshine
every feature of the landscapes
no view of fair attributes
hill and dale, pool and brook,
ditch and trench, puddle and sewer
trees and cliffs and walls
lampposts, skyscrapers, graffiti
yonder hillock, brook, hedge, or copse
adjoining the featureless cityscape
boundaries of a given space
indeterminate urban wastelands
a wheat crop on the southwest
a rubbish piled curbside
a hedge on the northeast
a chain-linked schoolyard
bounded by the high road on the south
confined amusements
the relative positions of villages and towns
perceptions limited to a street horizon
smoke of chimneys
plumes from factories
we are an overwrought generation
once people breathed simply
a bent inherited from some unknown ancestor
now we live the spirit of the times

Ugly Crying


by Debi


sadnessI wish I cried gracefully
dabbing tears softly
a quiet sniffle
a gentle sob
tear-stained pillowcases
but not me
I’m an ugly crier
a snot-stained pillowcase
or a pile of soggy Kleenex
is more my style

As ugly and snotty and noisy
as my crying may be
the grief behind it
is no less profound
than the gentlest sob
of a lovelier crier
bent gracefully
over the tear-stained pages
of an unfinished
handwritten
diary entry