The Things Forgotten

I remember how he wrote
The flourish in his pen
Letters joined like a river
with their meaning remote

I can smell his smoke
With clouds stinking a cowl
The ash flickered sun about his neck
Draped over him like a cloak

But I can't see his face
Just his cold eyes
The old smile is missing
Paused in the past place

I can't say I regret
I just find it curious
The things we hold onto
And the things we forget

-o0o-
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Unforgiven

I thought about the news I heard,

conveyed upon a single word.

A man I found obscene, absurd,

had stumbled into misery.

I must admit I felt some joy,

when fate maligned that spiteful boy,

who pissed away his life’s employ,

while doing me much injury.

Does my reaction startle you?

Forgive this heart for mercy due,

but quid pro quo with revenue.

Yes, I have earned my enmity.

So if the world needs my surrender,

do away with my contender,

and give me over into splendour,

to bathe in Lethe’s obscurity.

-o0o-