Sunlight, moonlight
Come with their own greeting
Sun says, “good morning”
Moon replies, “good evening”.

Clockwork shift change
Little conversation on the horizon
Clocking in, clocking out
Leaving and arriving

If I could hold
what hands won’t

If I can have
what hands don’t

If I can smile
and take note

I can handle anything.

She asked me to write her a poem,
this is what I wrote…

She dreams of winter winds
that blow her breath and smiles
She likes the simple things
like walks, talks and style
and when she asks me for my time
I know she’s only teasing
she knows that without her love
I could not go on singing

For this reason then,
she told me to sing a song
and this is what I sang…

My voice is not the song of kings
nor any angel will heed my cry
But of all the sweetest things I bring
the sound of silence I will try
Not to strangle the loudest tear
or hang a hope of sky
As long as my love she loves me
before the day my love does die

She told me then to tell a tale
one that will never end…

Allow me to turn you into a book
I’ll breathe your story into the breeze
turn the pages of your eyes  
and whisper waves among the seas
Let them leave your soil of sorrow
Let them fill your dug up hole
find some shade within the shadow
where branches green within your soul

She stares weakly at the rest of me,
and asks, “Are there no other words
you keep?”

I look into her dying eyes
words take her final breath

My love lies down to sleep

I’m writing a poem
and I need a rhyme with ‘Cat’
but nothing kiddy
like ‘Sat’ or ‘Mat’
Something long
like a Cadillac
something for change
like a laundromat
Something as strong
as an acrobat
Something as rich
as an aristocrat
Something as catchy
as a copycat
Yet something
simple
something
clean
Something like that
If you know what I mean

It’s a fork you don’t want to walk
It’s a mind you don’t want to find
It’s a fall you don’t want to crawl
It’s a rage you don’t want to cage
It’s a trap you don’t want to snap
It’s a sin you don’t want in

How can I
stop you
from not
leaving

I don’t want
you
not to go

You say my
words are
confusing

What can I
not say
to
have you
stay

The Big Bear and Little Mouse were what you call  ‘Best of Friends’.
When Little Mouse would trip, Big Bear would giggle, pick him up and gently place him back on track.

When Little Mouse would fall, Big Bear would laugh, carefully lift him up, dust him off, and patiently put him back on the path.

One day, Little Mouse got stuck trying to get some cheese. Big Bear, thought it was hilarious. He pulled him out. Licked his sore. Gave him a pat and set him down to eat.

Big Bear and Little Mouse were the best of friends. Till one day, Little Mouse was sick and tired of Big Bear always laughing at him.

And left.

The stories we live
are bound beneath
the covers of land and sky
and the days in between
are the pages
from hello to our goodbye
Each turning sun
brings a new day
closer to the hour
Where all good things
must come to a close
when death holds the power
We scratch our name
in the dirt and dust, till wind
blows away existence
leaving behind
scraps of our mind
and fragments of our presence
To toil much and embed a mark
only in soiled strife
is vanity to have had a name
not etched in the book of life

”Don’t look!”, mother said
“It’s not for your eyes to see”
So it sat there, that little red box
in-between curiosity and me
“Be a good boy and put it down
promise to never open the lid,
You never un-see, or undo
a memory, you wish you never did”

I traced the edge, gave it a shake
and placed upon it my ear
listening what may mysteriously make
that ruffle from what I could hear
So I sat a lot, wondering what
could possibly be inside
It’s only a peak, I’m much too weak
my conscience I cannot hide

It can’t hurt, no one will know
after all, it’s just a little look
I’ll open and close, see how it goes
no harm, just like a book
tempting as is, a ‘sorry’ can’t fix
I wish to have kept my word
when mother was gone
and I, with the box alone
peeped in and out flew a bird

“Why is your flute so tiny
and all?”,
said the Willow to the little boy
“Maybe cos my song
is low and light
and my fingers
are so small”

“Why’s your arms
so stretched up high”
asked the boy looking up
“Maybe to send your tune,
past clouds and sky,
that resonates from my stump”

So together it dawned
the day they joined
spreading  the sweetest sound
The one who sits small,
with one standing tall
Together, reached heaven
from the ground

I’m just a broken man
and broken, yes, I  am.
It’s nothing new, I’m just old.
Ever since I was young I’d been told,
”It’s the boy with the crack”,
and that fine line around my soul
formed the piece, I now lack
and I became,
‘The boy with the hole’

All along they would say
“Hey, boy with the missing piece,
I’d like a part, if that’s okay,
and can I take one please?”
and they'd take what they can
and break what they would
left me less than the man I was
holding only to what I could

Now, they point about
at the piece from my breast
where my heart fell out
from that hole in my chest.
They watch and laugh
and waiting perhaps,  
to steal another piece
and watch me collapse.

Yet still standing strong
though I’ve a hole in my head
“Just keep that  brain bigger”,
my father once said.
“Beware my son,
for one thing is true,
everyone will want to take
a piece of you”

Through empty hallways
and the wide corridor of life
days, like doors, are unopened
for fears of welcoming strife
reluctantly, we refuse to look
into a new day, like a locked room
known only by unlatching a hook
to find the futures not so gloom
Yet running to the day before
We drop ‘Today’,  like a lost key
that unlocks the day behind that door
where ‘Tomorrow’, could’ve set us free.

What was known yet unseen
was a king and a dying queen
holding their last kiss good bye
That day the kiss died

He then ordered all his men
to bind all lovers in his den  
Every embrace ever lied
The day the kiss died

The Judge and the Law
all came to find flaw
In any poet or guide
The day the kiss died

Finding two lovers, that spoke
of how his and her lips broke
Evidence, they could not hide
The day the kiss died

They cried,
“We hold and we touch
yet it’s not enough in as much
a kiss can’t be denied”
The day the kiss died

With a kiss hid in their heart
They tore them apart
and took them aside
The day the kiss died

Children chanted, “the kiss of death
will draw your last breath.
Don’t or dare to no longer abide”
The day the kiss died

And all the people they wept
and the sweepers that swept
the sad streets, they sighed
The day the kiss died

In lace they all dressed
in hope to lay the last kiss to rest
In a coffin to confide
The day the kiss died

That night,
Artists repainted the sky
Lanterns hung high
In the black rain they cried
The day the kiss died

While white doves bled red
It was heard and it was said
even the angels cried
The day the kiss died

The clowns in all places
Painted a frown on their faces
for all grooms and the brides
The day the kiss died

Old widows slept as it seems
waiting for their dreams
nuns by their side
The day the kiss died

The romantics broke doors
of bottle shops and liquor stores
yet the wine had all dried
The day the kiss died

Yet, still up north and down south
lovers, for love, open their mouth
welcoming death near and wide
The day the kiss died

When you first fail,
you learn to fear

When you fear,
you continue to fail

When you fear to fail,
you learn nothing

When you fail to fear,
you’ve learned everything.

I took advice from a fox
about survival and natural law
It spoke to me about cunningness
and how to trap birds within your jaw

I took advice from that bird
laying stiff in its mouth and still
about the ways one catches worms
and the early rise for their meal

I took advice from the worm
squirming in it’s beak from a brook
about all the fish it once had caught
and how in everything theres a hidden hook

I took advice from life itself
searching for secrets to survive
the difference between good and bad
and how Karma is killing us alive

The last meal I will eat
The last of fears I’ll defeat

The last bottle I will drink
The last loop I will link

The last chance I will take
The last speech I will make

The last invite I’ll attend
The last message I will send

The last call I will accept
The last part I’ll dissect

The last path I will pave
The last coin I will save

The last option I will choose
The last friend I will lose

The last wrong I will right
The last battle I will fight

The last confession I’ll admit
The last piece I will fit

The last shoe I will shine
The last letter I will sign

The last song I will sing
The last bell I will ring

The last line I will draw
The last grain I will store

The last claim I will stake
The last breath I will take

The last of love I will give
The last of life I will live

The last of dust I will bite
The last of words I will write

“Wow”
said the cow
and, “Wow”, “Wow”
say another two
And if,
“Wow”, “Wow”, Wow”
say another three
Then what should you do?
Please reply
with, “Moo”
for that’s what
a cow should do
“Moo”, “Moo”, “Moo”
even four
‘moos’ or more
Until no cow with ‘wow’
Is heard
among the herd
Anytime now
or evermore

If, “Laa”
says the Ewe
and “Laa”,  “Laa”
say another two
...then three, and so on...
you know,
somethings wrong.
Please reply with “Baa”
and as many ‘Baa’s’
you need to
But keep to a few,
and keep it at that
Unless you hear,
“MooWow”
and it’s coming
from the cat

A lizard and a tatt!
imagine that…
his lover left before she came
gone on a whim
leaving him
with a tattoo of her name

now full of regret
but soon will forget
when his words finally come true
his promise of change
never too late to arrange
a shed of skin and off with the tattoo

my mirror
has been screaming at me
for a while
I chose to walk away today
but it began to follow
became a black shadow
creeping into my cranium
to stay

broken reflection
in my head
that closing eyes
couldn’t save
shaking the grains
in my brain
didn’t help
like shattered glass
it slithered and sliced
my skin and scalp

cutting the chords
of light from my eye
bleeding fingers from braille
left me blind
without vision
there’s no escaping
the mirror
of reason
in my mind

“No strings attached”
said the flute to the violin

“Nothing to pick on”
said the piano to the harp

“Nothing to fret about “
said the drum to the guitar

“Nothing to dance about”
said the minstrel to the musician

I want to write poetry
like a confession that I’m bleeding
like blood that I’m crying
like a heart’s cry that I’m singing
like it’s a love song that I’m feeling
like it’s a feeling that I’m fighting
like it’s a fight I’m welcoming
like it’s a welcome I’m inviting
like it’s an invite I’m opening
like I’m open and amazing
I want to write amazing poetry
like I’m reading some famous poet
and that poet in me

A leech
at the beach
left it’s home at the pond
and as a result
of the salt
lost its ability to bond

Along comes a bird
without word
thinking it a worm, it plucks
so learn not to roam
too far from home
even if your life *****

Love gives you words that
cannot be expressed
only through sounds of
the human heart
and I have no words
than this, so lay
your head upon my chest
half a heart can only grant you
the eighth note

You tell me how much you love me
with the softest of subtle eyes
your words can convince my soul of anything
I’d believe even your sweetest lies
you’re fair and your face so beautiful
so sweetly your smile grows
still, I could fall so madly in love with you
even with something dangling down your nose

softly speaking words you  ‘woo’ me
satisfying the secrets  in my soul
you drown and delight my deepest parts
so deep you’d leave a hole
amazingly, you amaze me
a gift without ribbons or bows
you’d unwrap me with the slightest wink
even with something dangling down your nose

All you need to do, is touch me
my heart hides up in my throat
I’m so ‘lovesick’ it feels like seasick
you know how to rock my boat
blow my mind and wipe my memory
I offer you a beautiful soft rose
hold it close, to sniff and smell
and leave the thing dangling down your nose

“I don’t think I can take it anymore”,
she cried.

“Where would you take it anyway, if you still could”, I asked

“What do you mean…I don’t get it?”she said

“Never mind”, I replied

“You cant take anything anywhere if at first you didn’t get it”.

the same knife
can ****
or feed you

The same fire
can warm
or burn you

The same smile
can hide
or heal you

like the same heart
can hurt
and hold you

If the devil comes to you
offering to buy your soul
Ask him “why? “ and whats he done,
with the one he just stole?

If he tries to bargain
and offers some crazy price
hold to that heart, my friend
even if the price is nice

If he throws in an offer
doubling the price
consider the value of your soul
and remember,
he’ll always want a slice

Things that fall apart
often fall out of place

Things that you lose
are often lost without a trace

Things that are stolen
are often taken before your face

Things that are returned
are often found without a case