See me


I’m trying to expose my soul.

Your words cover me up.

You try to analyze what I cannot define.

You put me in a box. 

I feel my wings are clipped-

They atrophy and rot

I’m trying to let you see my song,

But you chatter over top.

It’s hard for me to speak your language.

This logic refutes my world.

No communication available,

I turn, and wander off.  

I long for comprehension to race across your heart,

to fill this loneliness that tears me apart. 





Infinitely I yearn for the nightly wandrings

Round a desolate street of my sleeping city

Bathed in the sickly glow of flickering streetlights

Lightly treading,



Kiss the hand to the moon

no magic found in a sunlit noon.

Floating through the night like a vague spectre 

Beholding the life of the underground.

Rippling cloth and rustling gait:

This Cinderella flees a sinister ball.

Sleeping Beauty


Image  Gravity pulls me down

In reality, I can’t keep my feet on the ground.

The days start to blur

I sigh out the window

You know I’m sure.

I’ve taken leave of reality

Patience, I lack the ability

But I’d wait a thousand years

Lost in slumber

Without any fears

Wake me

With your gentle kiss

I’ve been sleeping all this time

My life is bliss.

Though the past may have it’s thorns

The angels blow their horns

Heaven awaits

You’re just beyond it’s gates

And I’ll be waiting

Right here.



 An expanse of darkness

A pinpoint in the distance

Closing the space

Gentle caresses

Two bodies there were found

Across time and space

By one soul bound

Trial and error

Never was fate fairer

 In whose eyes

Hope was mirrored

Patient sighs

The Road


 In the rain, cotton dresses grow heavy

In the lane the trees are rife with dance

The wanderer goes wandering in a trance.

The patient one trips lightly along

Discussing Neitzche with the oak who is wise

Down in the clearing the rain softly sighs

The colors are swimming

The silence is dimming

The one who was lost

Slowly rises

The wanderer

Onto pointed toes

A spinning she goes

Spinning she goes

Round and round and round




The wanderer looks down

With laughter at Earth’s frown

Reaching the sun’s crown

She pauses to drown

His light takes her slowly

Tells her all that is holy

As she falls into his effervescent might

The Early Years


Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Now forget the song, and turn that line into the title or inspiration for your post.

One strong hand on the steering wheel

The other holding mine

We cruised up the highway

Two hearts intertwined

Heavy to reach where we were going

Hard to say goodbye

Tail-lights ferocious blaring

soft-lips try not to cry.

The parting, though only brief,

and separation ended soon

fills young hearts with grief. 

Under the palest moon. 

The Wheel of the Year


The sky is over-cast

The air is growing chill

The wind whispers faint

Fall is drawing near

Leaves begin to blush

Nights long, deeply yawn

As embers merry burn

So spins the yearly wheel

The trees are hushed to sleep 

The crows begin their flight

The corn gathered in 

Fall is drawing near

Air the winter clothes

Summer pack away

Sing merrily a tune

So spins the yearly wheel

Pumpkins full are growing 

The trees have apples shed

The hay cut and baled

Fall is drawing near



If life is a flower,

Plant it in your heart
Nurture it in your soul
If life is a grave
Decorate it with sighs
Feed it with tears
If life is an abyss
Throw it away
Recycle the plastic
Life is a joke
Laugh it off

Acta non Verba

The plunge into obscurity
A world devoid of purity
The cunning hide behind brave words
The bold are men of action.
Men of action know no invoices, nor memos
They are not shrouded behind the monotonous security of cubicle walls
They are not mandated by the ticking of a clock and an eight hour grind
For they are men of action.
 They rise at dawn
dare not to yawn
Feet pounding the ground
Eyes straight, looking beyond the horizon
They are drawn by a higher purpose
not reflected in their pay grade

Good Morning America


The explosion of water from a tap

The  colors of the rainbow are mapped

The voice of the sky is scratched

The life as I die is crap.
The girl scout cookies are stale.
The coffee a permanent ring that has rung
As I watch the fire fail
I am the last note he has sung.
You are the tree
I am the axe
The one that is free
Is not the one in the cask
The paper that is folded
The life that is moulded
The patience corroded
The Prince demoted
The alarm is bleeping
Fucking the world with it
The tea is steeping
The  news is spewing shit
You are the lines
I color outside
The final notice signs
The lowest tide