The Confrontation

Two ladies look 

At each other

Daggers drawn

One suspects

The other of stealing

Her fish or pet mice

The other thinks her

Opponent may burgle 

Some of her precious 

Nine lives

The Estranged Couple

Not for us

The facade of a

Wedding band

Not for us the

Constant need

To wallow in mush

And just keep

Holding hands

The Rickshaw Puller

This isn't a job
That needs any kind of pull
(Well, not that kind of pull anyways)

Nor is it that kind of job
That needs a lot of push
(Well, not that kind of push anyways)

All I need for this job to go fine
Is for someone's butt to land on
These seats before I can get off mine

Life, the artist

What are the words?
Which are the images?
That so effortlessly
Touch the heart?

Some of them happen
In those rare coincidences
When life just loves
To imitate art