Category Archives: and More

I walk the cobblestones of Queen VictoriaStreet, rubbing the black soot from mybloodshot eyes and whiskingsnow-like flakes from my flat cap.A stench crawls the road beside mein a souring color of gaslight,flaming like golden fire,not yet pinched bythe lamplighter’s snuffer. The night’srubble crunches under my shoesas my walk stirs thick grey fogworking hard to concealaContinue reading “London Fire Watcher”

Of the bird that swoops gracefully,Bathes sweetly in my fountain,Cackles at my window loudly,To wake me up too early. Of winter snow that cleanses me,Raising hopes with new waters,To become a sweet messof mud and grime. Of gray bearded grandma’sunconditional love,The smell of tobacco breath,I must turn my head. Of my beautiful children,With pink cheeksContinue reading “Of Blessings and Banes”

(For my granddaughter, Josephine, who aged out of her best friend) Goodbye little silky,My fuzzy warm friend,There, when I was born,And there to the end. I loved that at night,You kissed my cheek,And held my hand,As I drifted to sleep. You made me feel safe,From shadows of the moon,Under the starless skies,And the dark ofContinue reading “Best Friends”

I laid on the ground, face uplooking into the black and white sceneof two people hovering with a blue skyhunched over them. One was a reporterwith a big 1950’s vintage camera; she snappeda button twice – phuff, phuff,the pregnant bulb flashed and hissed.I wanted to cover my eyes butmy arms . . . they wouldn’t.TheContinue reading “The Reporter”

The island has known carefreenights of youthful moons,of storms when windsroll throughwith white tippedwaves of ocean blue. The island hears shared whispers,‘tween lovers in the corner boothunder the leaky thatched roofof amber-like strawas they sip coconut milkstaring through puppy eyes. The island has taught us to speakin the rhythm of Pahu drumswatching girls gently swaytoContinue reading “An Island Night”

Sound waves of thunder roll,‘Fore bolts of lightning flash,Tocar las campanas de Cristo,In gongs of wringing crash. Fill yourself with sights and sounds,Of nature’s propitious display,The fearful wonder of spectacle,Among gauzy clouds of gray. To whom do I owe this honor,But a viator from heaven beyond,The stage play written for me,Then from the sky abscond.

I search for something I cannot see,Something missing but nearby,Something non-spatial;palpable but atemporal,I am mad to possess it!I hunt for it like a falcon, confident in my flight,Searching with sharp eyes, in swinging swoops,ready to strike.I search with a curious stirringof emptiness; yet I am full – of nothingas my talons grab hold of air,butContinue reading “To Possess Nothing”

I don’t know what I feel, butI feel,A scratch on my back, or a buzzing saw,A bear’s hot breath, his chasing claw,My rattling brain shouting ping and a pong,Vibration of sound from a Spanish song,A deep kiss.I don’t know what I feel, butI feel.A clap, then a smooth handed slap, aRed painted finger, a sharpContinue reading “Exploration”

Your pike pounds the mountain’s sidesending a flash of white sparks intothe coal dusted roots of your red beardstill wet with sweat like the morning tide.Through deafened ears, you hear onlymurmurs from your daughters as they tracethe deep rooted coal veins of blackenedwrinkles in your withered face. Now, but a mirage of who you usedContinue reading “The Pitman”

Shimmering in the saddle,Like a summertime magnolia,Or a shiny red apple that hangs,A little too high on the tree for me. I try to turn my smile away,But I cannot unlock my eyes,From the star shine of her curls,And easy flow of her saddle rhythm. As I sit up from my dream,I know I’ll beContinue reading “Rhinestones and Curls”