Mind your own

If someone is shitting in your back yard
Then by all means, justly, take offense.
But if that someone shits in their own back yard,
Then stand back, please, behind the fence.
It defies logic and lies beyond sense,
An intangible, but true, saddening fact.
That some among us must rush to defence
Of actions that cause no malicious impact.
It strikes me that those lacking caution, or tact,
Must themselves be fearful of their own wardrobe.
And in their fearfulness, race to attack
Those who embrace their freedom to elope.
  It staggers that unabashed, enlightened hope,
  To some unenlightened remains beyond scope.

The bluebottle

The skipped beat of an irregular heart.

No rest for the wicked, no wicked unrest.

False comfort long spent to flower’s sweet scent;

Comfort long lost in relentless lament.

Repenting, yet not regretful in solace;

Making pace, a trace, but bleak consolation.

Overwrought in apprehension’s solemn place,

A brave face, though unwittingly condemned.

Overwhelmed by unremitting confusion,

A conclusion seemingly out of sight.

Like the bluebottle’s plight to window’s pane;

The other side, greener, teasingly bright.

But as yielding of clouds relieves endless rain;

In sunlight, a reprieve from heady disdain.

Insomnia

Faithless
Between rain's melancholy drip, drip, drip;
Shadows belie awakened senses, racing -
Slumber outcast 'til morning's chastening light.