purple petaled flower on white surface
Photo by Jess Watters on

Sometimes less is more (or so I have heard).  I have a busy mind which runs and races.  There was a time I tried to subdue this engine and be “like everyone else”… but I am tired of that and willing to release the reins to see where it goes.  I used to have strict things in mind when it came to poetry… what exactly is it ? Is there a pure definition?  I imagine it is alive, like people, and diverse, like the community of minds here (and throughout the known world).  So even a simple form of simple words can hold the spark of imagination, the fire of inspiration, and capture the heart or light a thought… I wonder.





I thought I had found

a four leaf clover

but I had

no such luck


fierce in name

the fear subsides

once you realize


do not bite

dial” 4/26/18

why does it feel

like my sun is setting

when the clock-hands

only show noon

dandelions” 4/27/18

last night

maybe three, four at most

this morning

a yard-full

of brazen yellow heads

threatening revolt


I look at my driveway

the only car is my own

I walk back inside

there is no one at home


power lines

bring light to millions

enlightenment to few

ineffective” 5/22/18

a week

I weep

I pray

I fall

nothing changes

nothing at all


if time is a river

swim to the bank

dry off

does it stop

do you exist

regrets” 5/28/18

the stem was cut

before the flower can bloom

now it will never be

a flower


scheduled arrival” 6/2/18

I am sure

upon my death

I will arrive

right on time

pain” 6/1/18

if this poem is a promise

these words are poison

stitched into wounds

forever broken

musical accompaniment ? Eric Johnson – Fatherly Downs

In the same breath EJ inspires me.. and makes me want to throw my guitars out the window…

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