Profundity pours from the morning pot
black and steaming, streaming into my mug.
Spare no drop for the kitchen rug.
This drug may stain, but caffeine drips in nicks of time
dispelling dust clouds from my mind.
All mine, this early moment’s space, with just a hint of dawning grace
before this city’s race of rats stampede the status quo.
Where did it go?
Once crisp as fresh wheat toast, this brain,
clearly soaked and butter stained.
To that jar of multi vitamins I am inconstant friend
Take with caps of Red Yeast Rice,
Why cleanse blood cells of every vice?
Potato baked but falsely spread, will scrub the plaque,
will clear my head, rid me of dementia’s dread?
Alas, my father’s bane became a raven at my window pane.
Rapping beak upon the glass, through sharp black eyes,
I grasp at last the deadly call.
Yoga breath helps draw away the draperies of a winter’s day
so light may spill on fresh found wits,
half way won and not unfit
to fight the fated doom.
Outside a world of wonder waits.
Be there now, don‘t meditate.
My dark recedes in thin disguise
as butter by the window flies.
Poetry by SS Matthews