Ode to Frost


You’ve reigned supreme these many months –

after your first tentative extortion attempt

was met with little resistance,

your strong-arm tactics evolved,

grew claws;


you branched out

and sank cement boots into permafrost,

added all creation to your payroll.

You thought

Justice would never come.

Trampling on the innocent,

freezing hopes and dreams,

your fingerprints went global.

But your days are numbered.

You will pay

for what you’ve done –

the Sun stands at the door

and knocks;

gavel will fall,

your empire will melt,

and your harsh deeds

become a bitter memory.

Don’t let the door hit you

on your way out of the courtroom…

The Stars are Witnesses

Roses tend to be rather less roses this way,

but hailstones, Nature’s Mafia,

convinced you that life would be safer,

more bearable,

cast in the role of ‘Victim in a Puddle’.

You tremble in your cement boots.

Extortion always exacts a price, unequally applied.

Your grip on reality relaxed

and here you lie,

‘She Was a Good Mother’ carved on your tombstone.

Your fall was silent,

a gradual descent into madness,

and only the stars

are witnesses…