Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Crime & Punishment

Justice is forgiveness 
it is surely heard
in the bishop's song
to the con Jean Valjean;

for the brave melody
he sings to the cops 
that climbs like a prayer 
is the same sung by Javert:

the restless pursuer,
that relentless judge
who sorely assumed
justice equals judgment.

And justice surely does.
But where does it lie,
this judgment? On the
back of a thief or a

Priest? And who possesses
the privilege to try
and to deal out death
but God and God Himself?

© 2014 vagrant moon

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Researching Moliére

Oh, the drama! 
Oh, how tragic!
That one would die
of a heaving cough
while playing a

Oh, what irony!
What a discovery!
How Argan's ghost must
have swooned upon seeing 
his imagined malady 
was not so imaginary.

© 2014 vagrant moon

Monday, May 19, 2014

Coffee Shop Talk

A crush betrays you –
your heart turns your face red
as you laugh off the truth 
like a child who just 
pulled his hand out 
of the cookie jar 
mommy told him 
not to touch before dinner.

Your lukewarm coffee sits
waiting beneath your shy chin,
desperate for another chance
to be thought of,
to be bought with the tongue
and enjoyed like water
to a desert rose – 
your countenance sharing it’s subtle

shade of color – pink like blush;
red like the heart’s thunder.

© 2014 vagrant moon

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Our Love is a Slur

Our love is a slur;
I gotta walk away.
I've been grabbing at straws
And only leave with tragedy.

Our love is a slur,
can't you see it slip away?
It's drifting along like an
atmosphere in jilted space.

And I don't wanna
wake up like this,
With nothing but a
superficial kiss

on my lips.

© 2014 vagrant moon
[written in March 2014]