my icicle mind is frozen in time,
i see rainbows in snowflakes
and sunshine
in raindrops,
searching for puddles
never easy
to find.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
black night path
took a turn
to the dim dull
low weak
orange glow
of the lonesome lamplight in the street below,
where the shadows hid
and the graces slid
and the hat of the martyr
hung on a brick
held by mortar
by the hook
and the handle
and glory sat
on the other side shining in the humble halo
of a rumbling light.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
there's a river running by the meadow
next to sinner's
grove,
where the hobos huddle
in a freight yard place
and trip on tracks
and fall from grace,
I can't help thinking
where the serpents shudder
the angel stays
I can't help thinking when I was a boy,
a pocket full of flowers
meant a pocketful of joy,
and the river by the meadow
had a gentle smooth flow,
I can't help thinking
where the serpents shudder
the angel stays.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
these these morning yawns are drawing on,
to wake up now
to sweet birdsong
a rare and scarce occasion
as the body ages
and the bones
become thin
fresh as a daisy has to pay the day's wages
before a trickle
of strength is let in,
the droopy eyes,
listless sighs,
the walking through treacle
of waking up time. are drawing on,
to wake up now
to sweet birdsong
a rare and scarce occasion
as the body ages
and the bones
become thin
fresh as a daisy has to pay the day's wages
before a trickle
of strength is let in,
the droopy eyes,
listless sighs,
the walking through treacle
of waking up time.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:40 AM UTC
**out there
where they wait to stare good eyes blind,
crocodile style he scans
the surface,
hidden
from the eyes
of his persecutors,
out there
where they wait to stare good eyes blind,
beneath the ripples he stays
below radars
and the mad world tested and tried,
out there
where they wait to stare good eyes blind,
in his world of water
he glides
unnoticed by the unaware,
camouflaged,
out there
where they wait to stare good eyes blind.**
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
a mirage, a shadow that disappears with the fading light.
All that you hear about me is inconsequential
For he who truly knows me cannot speak about me.
The me that you see is irrelevant
– For I’m not what you see,
I’m much more and a lot less than that
Anything you know about me is obsolete
– I’m ever-changing,
morphing into forms you cannot fathom.
I’m not where you search for me,
I’m not what you wish me to be.
Cry all you want, laugh while you can
Despair, lose your hopes and question your faith I will still remain the enigma that I am
For better or for worse.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 3:20 AM UTC
Though my soul may set in darkness
it shall rise in perfect light,
for I have loved the stars too fondly
to be fearful of the night.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 3:04 AM UTC
these morning yawns are drawing on,
to wake up now
to sweet birdsong
a rare and scarce occasion
as the body ages
and the bones
become thin
fresh as a daisy has to pay the day's wages
before a trickle
of strength is let in,
the droopy eyes,
listless sighs,
the walking through treacle
of waking up time.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
my chances tumble
my dice wear thin..
my sleeves wear hearts
that could not win..
and in time when tired minds
regret their leaving
finds behind
once so bold
now in sunken fields of clay
their glory gone
their shine that shone upon the dullest day
stolen by the gloss
this weary life wears away
may they see the treasure trove
that drove their path
had a wrath that hid in shadows
lit by lights
so soon to fade.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 8:12 PM UTC
all these things and all these places
all these people all these faces
all these streets that end in strangers
cowboys Indians
amazing graces
nothing more
than pictures faded.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC