
I would like to believe in the better things. I would like to always have faith in the human spirit but with expectation is sown the inevitable poison of disappointment. So I guess I am saying I am a fool because I do hold on to these things… like true love. My logic tells me one thing but my poet’s heart holds on to dreams.
“awake” 3/2018
may you be the blunt tool
on which I hone
sharpen once again my lust for life
far too long
I have endured
my true self
hidden in this prison, in plain sight for all
curled away, bathed in my shadows becoming my skin
growing rusty, creeky and gray,
your voice has brought me simply back
to the light of day.
“Embers 2” 3/2018
there is a faint pulsing ember
locked deep inside the remnants of my heart
and memory
never more to catch flame
but your vision remains
I know, until my dying days
absent kiss upon solitary lips
my last breath
a faint whisper of your name
and the glow shall fade
into the evernight.
“gliding” 3/2018
staring through the veil
of rain drops on the windshield glass
no consciousness of driving
gliding
traveling along this line through space – time,
unable to reverse
and mend
the mistakes of our parting
on which I dwell
gliding.
“untitled” 3/2018
I am not a mirror
I only have my eyes
for they are just mere filters
to the visions
built up constructs of my mind
I want to be with you
when you are seventy
wrinkled and gray
for I will only see
the most beautiful woman there has ever been
as forever you will be
she is afraid of photographs
as to my disbelief
her true image self portrait
hangs upon my wall
as I pace the corridors
but more-
dreaming
with eyes closed (deep breath, exhale)
together my love
embracing
together, my love, my eternal love.
Musical accompaniment … King’s X “Honesty”
No whimsical thoughts for today, come back and I am sure I will be in the mood.





I wonder sometimes if I am being honest as the words sort of come to me whole cloth. Can I be truly honest with ideas flowing through this big coffee filter of a head ? I suppose I have not tried to lie with poetry, that might be a challenge to embark on. How would one go about that anyway? Something to ponder on a Friday morning (in the northeast US anyway). So in lieu of the topic I just expounded about, here are a couple of unrelated poems from early 2018. As usual thoughts, comments and bearer bonds are all appreciated.

Poems don’t always have to be seriously deadly.. ? do they ? Sometimes a whim of whimsical floats my sails and trails off into my pen.. and then we (well, you in this particular instance) get some of these little devils…