so many wounded
hiding their deformity
they stagger along
ravaged by childhood abuse
lurching through lifetime's journey
from one crisis to the next
lonely and feeling unloved
angry and so full of fear
ashamed and in denial
unable to truly bond
with anyone else

all along the fence
small pink roses were blooming
dry oak leaves and twigs
covered the cracked gray asphalt
of the twisted country road
where it turned sharply and passed
the tall narrow old farm house
now covered in blackberries
its broken windows staring
from beneath the thorny veil
front door open and gaping
and the stairs now fallen down
i slowed as i was passing
and thought of all the stories
happy, sad and beautiful
that had been lived within it
this creaking old derelect
now just home to the dry wind
and forgotten dreams

i thread the needle
an ant among fellow ants
on the hot pavement
between the glinting towers
traffic and voices collide
as the sun burns relentless
and green turns to red again
castaway on a curb now
i watch a crippled pigeon
tapping morse code as it limps
a jagged circle round me
the light turns to green and i
am an ant again

hello bluebottle
sitting atop my canvas
shifting all around
what do your two red eyes spy
can you see me staring back
and what are you waiting for
all alone high above me
fidgeting and impatient
but of course you are quite right
to be so very careful
for that is a newspaper
rolled up in my hand

deep within the shade
among the leaves and branches
cool comfortable
too lazy to face the heat
lying back and gazing out
the gamelan of rigging
softly tinkling from the docks
filling me with peacefulness
as yachts and sailboats slip past
the entrance to the inlet
and i calmly drift down the
stream of conciousness

the fire has not died
it still burns deep inside me
and i rake those coals
raising clouds of hot sparks from
embers full of memories
so painfully beautiful
that i cry and scream in pain
wishing that i could return to
the blazing red inferno
of our torrid love

the sickness of greed
where more never satisfies
a cold empty heart