"Is it tough to say, 'Wait'?
I don't know when, but the strings are loosening.
Winter, summer, autumn – why can't I feel them?
Perhaps I'm just selfish to look up at the sky and say, 'Stop.
Don't get darker; just wait.'
I want to talk.
The words are just making their way, but time's urge is to stop them.
The stone-ground steps are holding me back.
I want to feel you, hug you.
Is it wrong to be desperate for love?
If the world stops, I want to share a few words.
Please, ask them to stop.
I want to talk.
Is it hard for you to 'wait'?"

He tried his best to get past
it,                                                              ­                                                     
                                                                ­                                                    
He exhausted himself trying to go around
it,                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                           
  but he had to go through it to get it right                                                            ­                                                    
                                                                ­                                                        
  I couldn't act for him and stood by
helplessly                                                    ­                                                   
                                                                ­                                         
watching him struggle through the
emotions                                              
          ­                                                                 ­                                 
          knowing he wouldn't grow by just going through the motions

To dissect the oppositional statements in objective journalists and journalism reports is the unraveling of judgement and finding of census data.

Day by day the lives we are describing
Are a loud way to stay alive people.

And still all that needs to be done is handing the Americans the room keys and reservations not being entered by clerical workers

I feel like I’m a sun—
A glowing orb that brings life to others—
I’ll keep you warm,
I won’t let you freeze

But I’ll stay silent as the world begins to deteriorate—
I’ll watch the people I’ve worked so hard to keep warm— be left cold as the world freezes.

But I promise if you open your curtains I’ll be there—
I’ll make your room glow with my presence
I’ll stay till your finally warm—

Maybe then I finally will be able to set—
Descend into the horizon—
And finally burn off—
Be let free of the fires that burn in my core,
The fires that burn so hot, I can keep everyone warm—

The fires that have been burning
Oh so quietly—
Hidden from the world—
Hidden from the people I always warm.

so the sky is pink, the window is open.



listen to the crow call, or is it a rook?



we have the memo.



‘it is cosy here this morning’, crooned the bear.

limping in the way
small talk poetry

grateful for small mercies
a half song

forever left
unfinished...

a zig zag road
******* in knots

switchbacks
dead ends

a long straight
into the distance

one foot
then another.