I met a man who ridiculed
those with afflicted minds;
he mocked them with gestures
as if to add more wounds, Continue reading “Fake News”
That orange dot means
a distant star has received
my signal. Eerie.
If you do not own a yacht,
bobbing somewhere in the Bahamas;
if you’re not tanned, pampered and rich,
sipping cold Champagne Continue reading “The Choice”
Somewhere in the crowd
of pigeons, two lonely birds
are learning to count.
the way I was before,
before you came;
I remember Continue reading “Waiting”
There are no rhymes to play among
within the grave. There are no songs
that can be sung within the grave.
There poets must be dead
and let their poems misbehave.
The touch of oak bark
and I find, for a moment,
what I cannot keep.
Cold feet, cold fingers, cold room, and cold outside.
Cold everywhere. And no sign of Spring.
A world emptied of its Summer, hollowed out,
a groom without a bride, a zero for a ring. Continue reading “Sonnet 2”
They are my light, these words, inside my skull:
my mind’s illumination, giving thought its sight.
Without them, I’d be blind, and lost within:
ever dark and silent, trapped in sleepless night. Continue reading “Sonnet 1”
Those who love are still alive.
The rest, like ghosts, haunt the ruins
of their dreams. And I have drifted Continue reading “Nowhere”
There are those who presume,
guess like fools,
and live their lives in fond conjecture,
never knowing what is known, Continue reading “Fare Thee Well”
Even as the trout watched,
the frog leapt from Vega to Sirius
to prove it could be done.
The trout only mouthed, speechless.
We are always waiting, it seems,
all of us, somehow waiting.
As the the Sun rises,
so do our hopes Continue reading “Shore”