I wish she would read this artifice of love and know my asinine attempt to swim to her waters ‘festina lente’, my yearning to sweep her off her feet and cushion her with desirous imposition, is meant solely to glorify … Continue reading Artifice of Love. A poem.
Every indifferent look is broken glass, slicing my already severed heart. Your indifference, (bricks laid by me), is the wall separating our dual Berlins. Your indifference is the pendulum that crushes me whole: nothing left and nothing right. Every indifferent … Continue reading Indifference. A poem.
Dewdrops on my skin as I rise from your embrace. Your satin caress beckons and I return to your verge. Each twist and turn I take moves me closer to apogee, whence all efforts expire. Here within your tidal girth, … Continue reading Swim. A poem.
My gallants and topsails, tattered, torn and twisted; shrouding the devastated deck like grasping lichen on a forest floor. My ship creaks and moans, weary and spent from the storm; a mass of broken timbers, of shredded hopes forlorn. The … Continue reading Wrecked. A poem.
Am I a ghost to you, incorporeal as mist, drifting on the fulsome breeze, far beyond your view? What would it take to anneal this brume, a somatic conversion to make me real? Your fugue is my grave; Here I … Continue reading Ghostly. A poem.
The stuff of yearning dreams and wanton, empty years, stuffed to the seams, stuffed with regret. How much more stuffing could this vagrant heart beget, stuffed full to bursting, stuffed with loneliness. If you liked that, then you’ll love the … Continue reading Stuffing. A poem.
‘Cold’, a haiku trilogy. 1. Cold It’s so cold in here. Icicles within your stare doth make me shiver. 2. Distant To cross this tundra, where wind, snow and ice, doth reign. Find a way to you. 3. Frozen Frozen … Continue reading Haiku Friday. ‘Cold’, a haiku trilogy.
Are you looking at me? Stop looking at me! So many people, I see. All looking at me. Who do you think you see? Who are you to judge me? Why won’t you let me be? Just stop! Just stop … Continue reading Paranoid. A poem.
Long years of suffering, so tinged with hope and fear. I have watched you from afar, but outstayed my welcome, here. Now, your door has shut so tight and my path to you is blocked. Now, I’m back to wandering, … Continue reading The Timely Fool. A poem.
These dubious numbers will not fall in line for me. Indeed, more’s the fool; those digits that summon up every heavenly aspect of you. A token parody of a prodigious, passionate girl. Just numbers spinning in my head and heart, … Continue reading Lottery. A poem.
The tree is black and formless, its charred soul departed so many years before from this noxious darkness. This fractured stump, dreaming of chlorophyll and carbon dioxide smells. This burned and sullen timber that in this wasteland dwells. If you … Continue reading The Black Tree. A poem.
Why don’t you kill me? Release me from this misery? This womb that clings and grinds me down to tombstone dust and empty dreams, restrains me tight in chains of languid and bitter thoughts. Oh, but for a little death, … Continue reading Kill. A poem.
Exercise: Poet Ezra Pound described the “luminous details” that reveal and transmit an image swiftly and deeply. Find an image that resonates with you. Write a poem about this object in no more than 10 lines, keeping in mind the … Continue reading The Luminous Details of Poetic Description
We stopped upon the stair, our furtive conversation like a tender questionnaire. She smiled and talked and stared and in the animation of her lips and smile and hair, I found a love that swelled long after she had left … Continue reading Stair. A poem.
I face my window Pale droplets obscure The external world In my tiny womb I turn To face another day If you liked that, then you’ll love the poems in my first book The All or the Nothing! And at … Continue reading Perspective. A poem.
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