ON HIS GIFT

BILL SIENKIEWICZ Water runs from My one eye His colors stunning Send me Oils covers canvas Leave barely a Piece untouched Just white It is waves tidal Mangled trees That stand A horrid orchid Nature crippled The ugly Beautiful In his hands Finally I break in tears I sprout wings and soar For just a moment Angels hold me Gladly share The sky For a moment in time I am a King Crown and all Armand Hamouth

UMBILICAL CORD

PUZZLE PIECES An umbilical cord swings on a grandfather clock, strikes a Church Bell next to the synagogue, where a cantor reads Erotic poetry to a College Group, in a business seminar, A bald Donald Trump plays a guitar strung with his hair that a woman brushes in Iraq, in the middle of a football field, where both Teams lose. A player squashes Red Ants starring in a play directed by Des Macnuff hosted by Colin Mochery who Sentences Bill Gates to Ten Years in jail, who Googles Warren Buffet, and the crowds fill their plates, scoring it a hit James Carvel scores the winning run, and run Dennis Miller does tripping on an inane combination of words, Sung to the tune-up the Popes Mobile who blesses a sneezing Chinese President, while Arnold flexes his muscles to the crackle of the Burning Bush, pushes an 850lb Atomic Barbell. Sadam dressed in Hilfiger black hangs fearless and unremorseful too late to put in hospital. A new child enters the fray, crossed fingers, Hope? Bob, up and down on your knees Praying, Mantis an alcoholic quotes “Do not ask for whom the bell Tolls on the highway to another day, Days of our lives, click news the weather or not Too hot for October November follows, another year another never ending Why? Answered succinctly in the silence of acid tears. Armand Hamouth ............

A LOVELY CHILL

CAROL'S EYES My Love, would you mind if I took the time, to share a lovely chill that tickles my smile? It's your eyes! I'm afraid that I lose myself in them. In their promise. In their million shades of a million blues. I have to confess they inspire in me a dark red desire, a desire that flares with a devilish pucker in a place I won't mention now, ( later, alone, I'll tell you in a whisper but I deviate) When your eyes touch mine, my thoughts hitchhike on highway mischief like a teenager barefoot on scorching hot slate. Sometimes, my sweet I imagine diving head first into our locked stare. There I bathe in the milk of your DREAM EYES And in the fix of my wake I reach the surface drenched in the solitude of your loving glare. I feel compelled to tell you that my body, my whole body, trembles in my admiration of them. What I am trying to say, my love, is... OH MY GOD, YOUR EYES! Armand Hamouth

SPEECH

TWISTED WORDS! COMMUNICATION. ugly dreams body soaked, yellow-headed weeds. blacker than night spin right then left. a large target, crimes. surrounded, circle the wagons. important words soap bubbles, pop! intent action merge! people taken back. misunderstood?, heat of the moment?, ridiculous importance, words!, written, spoken, ineffectual!, COMMUNICATION. Armand Hamouth

WITH KATHARINE

Co-written With Katharine THE CREATIVE MIND IN THE CITY the sun lights a blazing sheet of white seeded in diamonds creative genius is a snowfall angels descend from the clouds unique blankets the gray silk scarf pearl necklace a dove in flight a cornucopia of north stars against a pure white evening sky engines burn grit your teeth masses trudge all over your virgin piece, peace. creative genius is fresh fallen snow still untouched. Armand/Katharine Hamouth

A VERY ROUGH DRAFT

IN THE PAINFOREST Apathy is the shame of our generation. It is the time to act, before the curtain closes. Unchain the Mountains whisper in their ears to cut and run. Spring the clouds the white the gray the black tell them to scamper and fast. Pardon the forests suggest they uproot and skedaddle, leave. Discharge the fields, the hills the valleys pay their cab fare and send them on their way. Absolve the waters, open the faucets, everywhere drain it, all of it, drain it dry. Wind-up the fliers, the crawlers, the prancers, the hoppers, the jumpers, the leapers, the dancers, the runners the swimmers, give 'em a push watch 'em escape, scoot, vamoose. Tell the piper to bring the children play his magic flute, its time to blow this Popsicle stand time to mission to somewhere else. Deflate it all don't bother packing dash, trot, speed walk exit stage left or right. Abandon what you can't grab. Throw a lit match on the way out. Let it all implode in its own gasses This book Has reached its last chapter, its last page, its final word . When the stench of rotting flesh subsides give me a holler. then, we will return. Armand Hamouth

IN THE VERNACULAR

KNOCK KNOCK We bleed in a multi - spectrum of paint swatches We breathe the exhaust of weeping willows Plugged into a wall of green foliage our fuel is a rare chloroform. Organs, drenched in the acid bite of a deadly virus. Even prayers flow like a silence and fall before reaching ears. Test tubes are the messengers of our work. Who will answer your door. Armand Hamouth