, , , , , ,

Climbed down from the train,

Its belly rumbling still

Like a malnourished child,

Walked the cold concrete

Past blank-faced waiting rooms

And story touting kiosks,

Felt his ascension,

His automated feet,

Lift him from the darkened bowel,

Toward light’s promise

The canopy of glass

Which hung like disease over him,

Eyes undistracted

By neon’s garish glow

Temptation’s hollow promise,

Out into the day;

Sun that sliced the high-rise

Like a dulled uneasy blade,

Tracers on the floor,

An impermanent guide,

Swallowed by shadow’s silence,

Mind stilled to motion,

Following his footsteps

A slave to destination,

Beyond the concrete,

Where houses looked the same,

Dead-eyed and slowly fading,

He made his way again.


Opal Eyes


, , , , ,

In time your opal eyes

Will see through me like glass,

And words that I have said

Reveal themselves as crass,

The depths you felt were hidden

The truths you thought you saw,

Were only smoke and mirrors

Illusions, nothing more,

Transparency of moonlight

The clarity of day,

A skeleton remains

The tissue falls away,

In time your opal eyes

Will see through me like glass,

And all your wishful thoughts

Will never come to pass.

Hook and Line


, , , , , , ,

Throw me a line

That I might dance

With the salmon and trout

And leap with the words

That rise and fall

Like waters white

And shimmer like scales

That show me the way

To speak my thoughts

In purest form

Let me swallow the bait

As you reel me in

But throw me a hook

And let me breathe

As I bathe in the waters

Of your words.



, , , , , , , , ,

They walk with you

In friendship’s shade

Through pastures green

And cloistered streets,

Beneath its veil,

Its velvet cloak,

Ice fingers coil

Around your soul,

They sense each thought

Each virgin breath

And hold each pulse

Within their palm,

With empty eyes

They watch your days

Hold memories

In candle’s flame,

These ghosts you’ve known

For all your life.

The Whaler


, , , ,

Tired timbers creak

Like ancient bones

Beneath my feet

Salt-soaked and swollen

Old man’s eyes

Watching the swell

The rise and fall

Of shark-toothed waves

Which crash against

The fragile vessel

Which holds our hopes

And carries us ever on

Our endless search

The girdle around the Earth

Which we traverse

Our fears masked

By necessity and emptiness

Searching for the wake

The blowhole spray

Which lends us hope

Of our return to shore.

Sleep Well


, , , , , , , , ,

Sleep well, my friend, sleep well,

On this, your last of nights,

And dream yourself serenity,

Safe passage to the light.

Sleep well, my friend, sleep well,

My whispered words, ‘goodbye’,

A planted kiss upon your lips,

A closing of your eye.

Sleep well, my friend, sleep well.

My parting wish for you,

For we shall never meet again,

In sorrow this you knew.

Sleep well, my friend, sleep well.



, , , , , , , , ,

Pictures fall from silver screens

Like petals from my heart

Images I cannot hold

More precious now

Than day’s first light

Whose frost-kiss chills my cheek

Lost effigies of futures which

Will never rise

And warm a distant heart,

I hold them in my hands

Like tiny creatures

Sacred, fragile, pure

Whose naked trust slips between my fingers

To melt upon the ground

And disappear to reverie,

Phantoms whose expressions sweet

Conspire within my dreams

Make mockery of wakeful time

A fantasy to feed,

And as like flakes of snow they fall

I catch them in my heart

And clasp each one with loving hands

These pictures that I hold.


I saw your face


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I saw your face
In the marquetry of time
A place that I would stumble upon
And I knew love was real.
A tiny scratch
A touch that felt so true
A wakening kiss to all things new
And I knew love was real.
I felt your breath
A stirring in my veins
Bring Spring where Winter once did rule
And I knew love was real.
And in your eye
I saw my life’s design
A pathway from dead frozen days
And I knew your love was real.