Do Angels Smile
Do angels smile in the dark night
as they watch over the sleeping child
guarding, protecting until light?
The infant, innocent, meek and mild
nestled warm in his snug straw bed
looked at a dancing cherub and smiled.
Forsaken and crucified He bled.
The sky darkened and He was home,
while the angels watched overhead.
Now angels soft and pure as a midnight breeze,
surround Him and smile upon sleeping babes
Death in a Metro Bar
WASHINGTON (AP) 10 percent jump in slayings is ‘no aberration,’ constabulary think tank announces
A man got off the E Train
carrying a samurai sword,
three pistols, kerosene, propane,
and plastic handcuffs,
strode into a bar,
presumably not for a drink.
It made me think,
how did he get that far?
Who sat next to him
in the subway car?
“FBI data has shown a rise in violent crime since 2004. The Justice Department says crime was historically low that year.”
Pistol shots rang out
before two courageous barmaids,
brave ladies no doubt,
dove to wrestle him down.
I see images, fears hard to allay
they are still deep in my mind.
Was everyone on the street blind?
Did they turn their head away,
from a midnight stroller armed to the teeth,
not concerned if bullets didn’t spray.
“Two years worth of increases in violent crime demonstrates a change in the extent and the nature of crime in America.”
I wonder what is wrong in
our cities and big towns,
subways and thoroughfares,
when a man so bent upon harm
can walk around without obstruction.
I wonder what the attorney’s defense will be,
“He was temporarily insane, set him free.
He didn’t really mean to cause destruction.
Something sure must have set him off,
poor victim of poverty and society.”
WASHINGTON (AP): “A public spokesman said after the shooting, ‘this attack was so bizarre that it could only have been committed by someone clearly deranged.'”
Daughter of the Night
Like a sip from a clear ice water stream,
you await me with outstretched arms.
Teeth sparkle, perfect smile, eyes agleam.
Daughter of the night I need you.
Your magic and passion are mine to crave,
sometimes dreams, sometimes nightmarish charms.
Needs and desires wash over me in a wave.
Daughter of the night I need you.
The cold water engulfs me, fails to quench,
the heat of my flush-faced desire.
Less than a lady, more than a wench,
daughter of the night I need you.
I am not sure where my reality resides.
I don’t want to awaken if this is the dream,
a drowning man seduced by mermaid’s deadly tides.
Daughter of the night I need you.
Lou Marin was born and raised in the western hills of Maine, then spent twenty plus years wandering the country and world in the United States Air Force. He is a published poet and short story writer who now mostly writes faith-based devotionals. He lives in Bethel, Maine. His five poetry anthologies, published by PublishAmerica and entitled Awash With Words, Old Waves, New Beaches, Whisper of Waves, and Sea to Shining Sea (versions one and two), are available in print and online.
