Jan Sand Poems

These times dictate a fashion
That all rhyme be banished,
Vanished. But an inner passion
Bubbles out again, again
...

Royally he treads the land,
The earth, the countryside,
The fields, the farms, the dirt, the sand.
He howls of these
...

I happened on an arthropod,
A jointed legged fellow,
Who sang a tragic little song
Which ranged from shriek to bellow.
...

Far along to where Time's arrow flees
Where matter, banished, bereft of energies.
Photons no longer zip
Like a squeezed lemon pip.
...

The great dead stone
Hangs overhead,
Ricochets the fury of the Sun,
Sucks its strength
...

Were we, to see in spangled air
Notes produced in symphony,
Could sense mutate from blare to glare-
Know tunes as chromic macaroni?
...

There is a point,
When traveling by rocket,
That the engines must be turned
To face the destination.
...

Turn, turn, turn the sky,
Its bits and pieces silent fly
In curves precise, defined by pi
...

The earmarks of significance
Are delicate. A hundred years
Is not so long ago. Events that kill,
Events that punish, events that destroy,
...

How to attack the world,
Wring gold or sustenance
From its tough shell?
I have tried to craft
...