Old Navigators,
Where they go or dream,  
Doesn’t matter.
As long as there is still,
Somewhere to go.

Meanwhile I'll just sit on the edge,
Well ahead of the crowd,
Waiting for the train to eternity.
Where it goes does anybody know?

While I wait,
I’ll sit on this deck,
I’ll dangle my feet in the warm sea,
Look at the sights.

And I’ll enjoy it all,
With the spirit I was given.
Perhaps I’ll whistle a tune while I wait,
Even if it is bad luck,
It hardly matters.

Maybe I’ll write in the log book.
And if someone after me reads the entry,
That’s fine.
And if they don’t,
That’s fine too.

I swim amongst the many.

Churned amidst the chaos.

Blended in the crowd of Serifs,
Calibris and New Romans.
Strong-armed by the bold.
Submerged beneath the underlined.

But I will stand out...

If only you’d
keep me italicised.

Now I can only gaze up
Toward the pedestal
Where I once resided,

As I lay on the floor broken,
Bruised and utterly raw.
No more pretences and

Performances to hide behind
And to act out with the grace
Of a Shakespearean actor.

My body curls like a wounded
Animal trying to preserve
Dignity while my sins march

Around me  in a death parade.
The drums ricochet through
My skull and the footsteps

Echo through the lonely halls
Of my mind where the memory
Of him burns and scorches because

That’s all they were to me.
A flickering flame that I tried to use
To heat my chilled heart.

Whatever distance
my mind and body
travels in time,  
journey’s end
is us united
in the same
sacred place.  
There, in our
loving hearts
where our eyes
magnetically met.
From here on,
our souls
twinned as one.
We fell  in love
far longer than
a lifetime’s span
forever bonded
fixed for eternity.

Osiris

Au naturelle
You slip off all:
I imagine before
a full length mirror.
As silken top  slides
down your contours
to reveal all aspects
of your cool beauty
the possibilities
beguile me.
Your power to charm
is palpable:
a sight none but
I see released,
showing elements
of your alchemy,
your magic.
Thus you appear
adorable, mute
in music’s sound.
while memory
sketches in the
rest of you.

TOBIAS

It’s ripples that I’m making,
And chances that I’m taking,
To keep my soul from aching,
And not be torn askew,

It’s adventure I’ll be facing
And freedom that I’m chasing,
To keep me from misplacing,
My heartbeats, all to few,

It’s all to make me wonder,
And break the lies asunder,
To keep from going under,
And to myself be true.

J.Doyle