Wednesday, May 30, 2018


when people throw your telephone number away
gone, no more, a piece of crumpled paper
in the bin
a quick one touch delete
a life finished
but like the sun rises again
so will you
with a new number
thats kept for a time
the door always opening
and closing
they found her on the floor
of a home enjoyed, so fine
filled with laughter and love
a garden alive with butterflys
now grows dense with weeds
is all thats left
after death

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

All That Is

the past is swept away
finished or
bits of coloured life still here
wherever here is

memory is partly swept away
details lost
or frosted over
forever there
waiting for the cold to melt
exposing how you felt

life is losing its edges
a partial picture
missing bits
and pieces
stories tucked
in deep creases

the wind blows
the river flows
silence is broken
"where there is fear, there is darkness
but where there is light,
darkness cannot exist."

the mandala accepts death
but its not a question
of who dies and who lives
only a seed is left
a point of awareness
within All That Is

Tuesday, May 9, 2017


the flowers talk to me
of appreciation
thirsty their mouths water
to be higher
on some peoples totem poles

then again some dour ants
envy flowers popularity
no annual ant shows
around the world
sort of like growing up a girl

complex social colonies
render such tragedies
industry driving forward
to the brink of madness
rolling over singular sadness

the grasses speak as one
green statements of contentment
while the masses lament
for something else
somewhere outside themselves

behind a bright curtain
the wizard explains
its not my fault
I do my best
you must do the rest

what flowers do best is smile
they do not toil or worry
they lift their heads up as clouds rain down
bringing warriors back
riding sky horses to certain victory

when I was small
an ant the size of a pin head
was my role model
so I could not fly
as an eagle does

if you were an eagle
but told you were an ant
you would never fly
flowers are not concerned with this
as they get kissed by the sun

and really
that's all the appreciation they need
besides one or two idle complaints
the lovely say to me
water your flowers not your weeds


against laughter in the night
wrong turns I did invite
vivid colors spin on flowers
busy bees consuming hours
listening to the sixties
on a small white box
everything is groovy
with many rivers to cross

I have no regrets

lost in a wilderness
garden of pain
you loved me once
then please love me again
expire date on eye lids
potential turning rancid
I pace the cage and curse the gate
my shadow heavier than hate

I place no bets

dizzy these days of blooming
like a husk torn from a ripened cob
leaning towards a whole new world
where the sun never died
so it has never risen
losing everything I thought I was
medium height, poetic, lover of the sea
I am mournings ecstasy

absolved of all my debts

Sunday, May 7, 2017

I'm Ready

I’m ready to go
I’m ready to leave
Close to heaven
I have been

I know how it feels
To suppress a scream
When I get there
It won’t be a dream

Your words send me
Flying past the clouds
Flying past the know hows
Flying faster now

I’m ready to go
All the best
Enough of hell
No place left

To bleed, well
Its goodbye my friend
How will I know
If I miss you

Guess the peace
Will tell me
Guess the release
Will not kill me

I’m ready to go
I’m ready to leave
Exhausted with love
Flying past the clouds above

You will forget about me
Out of sight, out of mind
Out of heart, out of gas
Not stranded on the highway

For others to pass

I’m ready to go
The towels thrown in
Shooting past lonely stars
Looking for heaven

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

My Way

my way will not be ignoring them
my way will not be fearing
my way will not be falling prey
to their mumbo jumbo
their new age jargon
my way will not be what others say
it will not be philosophical
but stark cold calling
a spade a spade
a killer a killer
the movie?
not a thriller
a romance
or a comedy
but a brown bag seedy horror
a plethora of shells in your burning eyes
from an array of mortar
in the dark already
in pain both subtle and gory
my way will not be sorry
navigating the last chapter
of the story
the awakened warrior
has a lazar focus
and a narrow neutral path
carrying a flag of life
and a sword of death

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Truth Is A Lonely Warrior

my laptop is my gun
I am in the quiet war
but not with a quiet mind
and not with a quiet weapon
where I stand outside the prison
while my body is a target
electricity my friend
lies are my enemy
I shoot bullets of information
some wound, some kill
some miss,
I tell you this
truth is a lonely warrior
a termite working overtime
until the structure of lies
and the phoenix flies high
above the burning pile
of all that defiles
justice, peace and love

I am not below or above
I am not near or far
I am because we are