Stan Petrovich Poems

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The Wine Of Samadhi

This is true:
In a state of meditation
I left both mind and body behind


Someday there will be all-fire,
Fire enveloping everything;
And also someday there
Will be a consuming chill,

And The Rains Came

After a 100-day drought
Wringing the patience from everybody's pores,
The rain finally enshrouded the concrete city;
Strange hungry plants invaded odd corners,


He was a massive storm:
He was never meant for the norm;

Family Feuds

Wilson, Wickford and Dunne
Were gunslingers and lawmen
With a remarkable thing in common:
They all had half-brothers they needed to kill.

Life Can Be

Life can be a little pat,
The limp handshake of a mounebank
Who steals you blind.
Life can be a poisoned substance,

The Bee

In search of something real: to it it is nectar;
When we look for ink, paper and nomenclature;
For ours is a world of representation;
The bee's is a world of satisfaction.

Lost Love

I have lost my love of mankind, for his predominance and unstable
stewardship of our inadvertently unstable planet earth;
the errors that have occurred cannot be reversed: ask the polar bear,
ask the space junk falling on our heads. Ask the dreary sun

Saint Valentine

For you, my sweet;
an apple in your mind's eye;
a strudle in lieu of a pie.
We would, if we could,

Man's Counless Fears

i am stuck here
in some kind of walled-in pit;
had i legs & arms
i might climb out of it.

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