Audacious, the old me would have said, To fly so straight and true, Like an arrow knocked and loosed To sail into the air above the heads Of warring knights and daring do, To find it’s mark in the heart … Continue reading First Meet. A poem.
I walk through the dark, The sound of my feet echoing Through the empty streets. The dog stops and sniffs, A victim of instinct, circumstantial scents and sense. In the distance, The thump of a kick drum— Faster than my … Continue reading Footsteps Away. A poem.
Beat! Beat! Drums! Walt Whitman Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation, Into the school where the scholar is studying, Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness … Continue reading Poets Loved: ‘Beat! Beat! Drums!’ by Walt Whitman
The enfilade is over And bodies lie strewn Across the battlefield Like broken bottles Leaking last regrets You have cut me down Your machine gun wit And explosive rejoinders Creating a no man’s land Where I lie fractured. For more … Continue reading Enfilade. A poem.
We wear disguises, donning them every day, hiding in plain sight. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats. Click here … Continue reading Disguises. A haiku.
I have read your words And seen my influence My mind is contours of constancy Of riotous colour and ascendancy My words spill across the canvas Every emotion eagerly revealed A zeitgeist for you to watch And absorb and capture … Continue reading Influence. A poem.
I live Amongst Serrated tongues And plastic … Continue reading I Live. A poem.
The hole stares back at me, A great, unblinking eye That will not let me be. The hole is black as pitch And filled with pain and lies, Every scar and every stitch. The hole it draws me in, Inescapable … Continue reading The Hole. A poem.
My wanderings, part of me, intrinsically. My wonderings, ostensibly necessary. My heart and head, as one, not separately. My head and heart, all I need, invariably. My turns of phrase never lead me astray. My phrasing, beguiling, when it turns … Continue reading Life, Finally. A poem.
In the wake of now, Blessed are the peacemakers And the sanctified. For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats. Click … Continue reading Haiku. The Wake.
I have yet to find The erstwhile substance, The peace of mind, Free from nomenclature And chilled regrets. The ice upon my lake, Covered in spider filigree And waiting to consume Me with every overly Anxious step. My navigation clears, … Continue reading The Search. A poem.
A vague and secondary feeling Unkempt and untrusting Creeping through my head Like an uninvited stranger And yet so familiar Just as I’m feeling good about myself and my world The black dog bites me A subtle reminder Of his … Continue reading Leash. A poem.
You still haunt An incorrigible spirit Infecting like a wasting disease And reducing us To a mockery of ourselves. Here you sit Having grown Complacent Upon our shoulders A ghostly monkey Upon our backs Rearing your ugly head In constant … Continue reading Bad Memories. A poem.
The call of creation Echoes in my mind, Oscillates in my ears, Reverberates in my soul. This call cannot go unanswered; It is the call of wild and reckless abandon, The puissant grace of the cheetah And the wind rustling … Continue reading The Creator’s Call. A poem.
Isolated Alone Weary Waiting Life without meaning Contemptible in reproach Self flagellation And inimitable doubt Tired Empty Sad Succinct Selfish and self-absorbed Mired and wallowing The constant reprobate Entwined and enshrined Endless Pitiful Artless Vacuous Circling down the drain Longing … Continue reading Trapped. A poem.
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