A Broken Street Ride

Ballerina dancing on the pot holes,
Like a footballer kicking for goals.
Baritone of dull thumps,
Soprano of screeches.

Braking and moving,
Moving and braking -
A rhythmic continuation.

In a fitful rapture
A moment to capture
Like the dance of wooers
And beloveds' run of pretense.

Jerks breaking backbones
Tumble you in front,
You sit up right back
For fleet of pebbles and stones
In orderly stack
Await you upfront.

Then there comes
Water volleys
Of dirt churned in drain water
Flowing like rivers
With rippling shivers
Right on wickedly broken roads
Stored like tons of valuables in hoards.

My Heart's Plea...

Oh lord of lords, my dearest god
How my heart a child of misfortune
Today importune
Bowing down before you.

Relieve it of stowage
Of guilt, fear, and sadness obscure
And those
Stubbornly sustained stirs.

Oh Over Soul Divine,
Oh power Supreme
Unfetter me from the fetters
Of the pouncing and trouncing
Fickle beats
Hitting the heart walls
Like balls bouncing
Forcefully.

And stupid sensitivity
Whisking
Like eggs and chocolate
In a bone china thin,
Making my mind
Ebon
A bitter chocolate tin.

Liberate oh please liberate
From the moments of defeat
Pains of lagging behind
Pains of incompetency
Piercing my skin
With a terror dabbed pins.