We Genie

Four poems

We Genie

The dialogue is slanted,
	but its got soul.
The performances scattered,
	but its got soul.
That soul, lost — in translation.
That passion, better served — in recreation.
Sometimes it's best to leave the genie in the bottle.

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Fire King

The flames trace a solid line,
Crawling up the wall like a vine.
The glow casts a long shadow,
Revealing the crowned visage
Of the great Fire King.

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The 4%

96% of the universe is made 
Of the dark unknown.
4% is made up of love,
And its lashing out,
Crying at its own existence,
Set on a path of many choices,
Burdened, yet hopelessly free.

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Pecking Order

Beneath the moon, a crow
Caw, Caw, Caw
Attention on my movement
As I slide and glide away
	under the moonlight.
A curious peck finds my ear.
I see the murder, inciting fear.
I hear and hear and hear,
The swift reminder:
       I was always here.

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