When you rise, wipe your eyes, feed your kids, drop them to school, when sleep is what you crave, to curl up in a grave, where no sound can reach, no hurt can breach, and nothing is nothing but blissful, painless sleep, there's no bill unpaid and you're holding no-one back, because you look worn…Read more BRAVE
, cornucopia of images, deluge of thoughts, economy of words
I Have Answers
But the questions remain.
A little pepper, some salt,
butter. Our rosemary needs pruning
and the music’s too loud
to hear. The lizard basks in sunlight
eight minutes old, but I forget to ask
what else we need. Or want. Just this,
she says. Red, like your favorite sky,
the in-between, the misplaced one.
“I Have Answers” is included inFrom Every Moment a Second, which will be published by Finishing Line Press this fall. The publisher has informed me that the publication date has been pushed back five weeks, which suggests a mid-November release.
This poem was inspired by a comment from poet, Robert Okaji (https://robertokaji.com/) about my poem, To That Girl Is it good to remember who we were, does memory have an age? To remember times when we were young, returning youth to doting stage. How can a memory be old, Stuck in the age when it…Read more Memory
To that girl, I say, a mystery, you were a secret when I met you I was mute, blundering, tongueless, awestruck and fumbling You were aloof, untouchable, a thought inside my head. Your pretty face, those hazel eyes I let you go, you walked away. You wondered why? he’s such a fool, was it something…Read more To That Girl
Autumn’s good drying, life takes a rest, an overdue vacation, the harvest’s abundance, Autumn’s fruit falling, celebrates an ending, death’s silent promise no end in returning. clothes whip and crack on the line, desiccating Fall’s gentle gusts deceptive, defying alive, energetic living for dying. colours so vivid dead leaves a-flying.
Fuck this and fuck that, a voice asks, fuck what? fuck everything, what have you got? If it lies, cheats or steals? Fuck you and the beast riding on wheels. You say youth is fucked up but you won’t take the rap for twisting, distorting and hey, fucking up. Fuck you for diverting the seeds…Read more THE ANGRY ANARCHIST
When lifting my foot was a pain the coach said soak it up, put weight on your other foot fight through the soreness Now lifting my foot is a daily torment to bear among a multitude of indignities as ache becomes a companion not to fight or soak But a daily reminder I’m still alive,…Read more Too Late to Use