Why concern yourself with where you walk? I am just a reed beneath your heel cracking until broken, outlined in your footprint. I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on … Continue reading Heel. A poem.
My/Your Greatest Fear Is That If You/I Really Knew Me/you You/I Wouldn’t Want To Know Me/You I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some from my heart. Many don’t appear on this website. For more of my … Continue reading Dual. A poem.
And now every time I pass by you, I remember when you were my muse. My inspiration, a living rhyme to hang my aching heart, in time. (I could and did, ‘til I was blue, … Continue reading Vagrant Heart. A poem.
My hurt My tears … Continue reading Surburbia. A poem.
Inbetween Caught in the middle, the dutiful advocate. Which way do you turn? Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure. Cheers Steve 🙂 I write a lot of poems, some from my head, … Continue reading Haiku Friday: Inbetween. A haiku.
There’s no rain, but the wind blows and buffets and billows, like an intransigent wolf at my door. Cocooned in my chair and cold sweeps and seeps through joints, a lubricant of low viscosity oil. The fire inside is only … Continue reading Shade. A poem.
I’m just a stump By the road You took your axe And cut me Down to size Left me here Just a stump With not much To reflect on But passing traffic Erstwhile glances Just a stump Worn and threadbare … Continue reading Stump. A poem.
Perpetual, an endless sojourn, a continuum of unknowing. This electric chair does not ease the time as much as I would like. The thoughts that spiral in my brain are currents playing havoc with the depths of perpetuity, every outcome … Continue reading The Chair. A poem.
I wish sometimes I could open my head, take a scalpel in hand and then operate. Remove all the things that I just love to hate: things that make me odd, or a little irate, all the shadows I jump … Continue reading Operation. A poem.
My memories and yours, burnt in effigy. They’re digital photos deleted from your phone. The flames lick at them, a contented aftertaste. They hang like meat, smoked and chargrilled. The funeral tailor delivers a final suit in charcoal. I write … Continue reading Effigy. A poem.
Strangers, friends, lovers, then strangers again. Lovers and strangers, but no longer friends. It seems it’s a cycle we’re doomed to repeat. A cycle of madness, one we just can’t escape. No matter how we try to break the cycle … Continue reading The Cycle. A poem.
Dream in … Continue reading Disconnected. A poem.
She died that day, kept all inside, No longer daddy’s joy and pride. The little girl that love rejected, forgotten in her wayward stride. She turned to other things and men and they did have their way, but then she … Continue reading Party Girl. A poem.
Tragedy Tragedy is what those who deter from fate’s path call coincidence. Haiku is a Japanese poetic form with a strict 5/7/5 syllable and line structure. Cheers Steve 🙂 I write a lot of poems, some from my head, some … Continue reading Haiku Friday: Tragedy. A haiku.
Every thought is a mere grace note, a barely consumed pinpoint in a barely thought out world, an architectural nightmare of unplanned infrastructure and roads to nowhere. But every once in a while, that note combines into a chord, and … Continue reading Instrument of Thought. A poem.
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