Dreams of a Poet
Destination to a poet’s desk … The air is soft as yesteryear upon my ‘cracked and aged face where
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Poetry
Poetry is a genre of literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm.
The Show Must Go On…Right? Asking For A Friend…
The show must go on… That’s right, isn’t it? It must… But why must it go on? Asking for a
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Clarity, Disclosure and Being Honest
Far less of a burden the clarity of disclosure, able to relent on the fears that preclude us from being
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That Rear Vision Mirror
Forever in the rear mirror, in eloquent whispering to remind, the past draws our consciousness to reminisce, to remember in
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Realizing Potential
Innately carried within each human soul, the potential of the divine, a seed of extraordinary possibility, and in acknowledging it
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I Guess I’ll Have to Wait
Dull this winter lament, this hibernation, world seen through window panes, and the chill attests the receding into warmer states
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Turning Pages
Turning Pages … I turned the page and saw, that there was so much more – more to what
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Woodland Retreat Restoreth My Soul
O’ woodland retreat restoreth my soul, when a wayward arrow pierces my heart, let me abide within my nook to
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My Thoughts Blessed By Yours
What muse abides me, sits quietly advising this silent process, this cerebral rotation of gleaned truths, and how is it
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Stumble, Crumble, Ride, Cry, Abide
I ask why and stumble, I ask why me and crumble, I contend and let anger ride, or I accept
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Pursuing Empty Dreams
Each stepping stone to want is a distraction, a temporary malaise quashed, and they come and go, never really giving
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Upholding the Fantasy Truths
Fluent the guise of confidence, upholding the delusion of worth held in desperate stance, the truth so sharp, so jaded,
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The Hands of Providence
In the hands of providence or the dull blade of shifting winds, judgement s are made by those with whom
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Burdens and Freedom
In flight thoughts despaired find favor in freedom’s release, and no weighted burden can hold down the will to speak,
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Creosote and snowballs
Creosote and snowballs Fresh fallen this january snow covers the old coal sheds in town in the distance we hear
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The Entrapment of Truth
Truth cannot dispel the ruse of belief, when minds so immovable cannot reap outside those parameters, held so deeply with
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Our Earthly Plight
It’s always been this way, life so complex has its ways, and within all life one can recognize the hand
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Stories of Steampunk History – An Era Repurposed
To some this is history, to others, just stories Details of things cooked up in laboratories Not potions per se,
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Where Truth Has Always Been
The temple of my inner self is quenched for all that in hope is felt, and sustained I am by
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My golden haired boy
My golden haired boy … You’ve been way more than a friend closer to me than many a human but where
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Near My River Home
Near My River Home By dusk I slide the canoe down the grassy bank and step into the wetness of my
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The Whisper in My Dream
The whisper comes unexpectedly, like a soft breath on the arch of my neck, and in afferent surrender the words
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The Heart and the Rose
The queen of flowers has sharp thorns … Though lovely in its beauty, the queen of flowers, has sharp thorns,
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