'

Can anyone really tell
(what difference there is)
clear to querying mind(s):

How is it we could not
savour the pungent, heavy clouds
before the pulling of the breeze?

Further, afar off,
one imagines future life
daily waiting - awash

tranquil staccato whispers -
permeate my porous soul
after the pelting of evening rain.




_ _ ___✒
○●
°

Farewell, days of summer
Your sweat stains remain;
And the fading tan lines
Blend into a chalky frame.
Let's point to autumn leaves
To hide the pale underneath
Folds of warmer sleeves.
Maybe our winter hibernation
Shall blossom into sparkly spring.

'silver tongue,' you say
frightful compliment which
births performance anxiety
rather than a mere swelling
of a bloated head

today though; this very moment

this tongue's gut-stung
by a full vial of anaesthetic;
come back tomorrow,
perhaps then, we shall
see a much better show*



●○
°

Where did you get that hat!?
Folks grind on  me each day.
"Keep it off, tis not funny!"
Sorry, but it's staying on this way!

Tis the hat my father never wore
on St. Paddy's day, you'd swore
Tis but me spiked up hair, y'seen
Doused with a lot o'spray on green!

I haven't me a hat, let alone respect;
So I'll bug off with me head *****.
And just as well, I'm on me way
I haven't a shamrock on me today.

a few loose jingling coins
a mind that is confused
a wind contrarily blowing

a set of clothes for spoiling
a clock that's fast or slow
a friend that comes and goes

a lover that's hot and cold
a pace slowed right down 
a transposition to minor chord

a gear shift up an incline
a better or a worse scenario, but
change stubbornly won't change*



●○
°

cease turning my green to grey
with wilful acts of nature
your heart is found in theirs
providing for this urgency
to lose love's indifference,
redeem that part of self
that feels only for you

scowling as a threatening storm cloud
somber as a brooding sky
my errant thoughts stumble
and leaving my tear ducts dry:
exhuming an abundant cascade
of strained expressions that reflect
a stained and bedraggled soul
whose fond recollections failed to connect.

we can't be giving in
too much, too soon
but can we complain?

we've nothing left in
between to hold onto
that last mistletoe is

withered and fallen;
what remains here
won't buy us yesterday

unapologetical apologetics:
what is denounced vocally and
many rave as condemnatory
is actually deep conviction being

militantly denied from an
internal admission of culpability
--external bluster of one in grave
delusionally grand denial*




●○
•

there need not be iron bars
to keep a heart imprisoned
there is no white flag of surrender
nor o-d, nor cutting would resolve

nor does the coming-off of chains make one trully free
the stench of blood curdled cold
staining my cheek with ferrous-ity

on that flee bitten bunk each unforgiving night
a plaintive prayer wafts in upward draft
to rejoin the fraying bonds of you and me


no prison bars my mind and heart could hold
no gruesome sight my countenance would melt
if we but have a moment pure as gold

Much like Icarus, off they go; 
until condensation metes them 
reality's condescension:

Whose goals and objectives
are minute in life's greater scheme; 
wings fashioned from floss harps-

Yet they soar each firmament;
nary a doubt would sway resolve;
no tempest or tumult could dissuade.

If you chance upon a cloudless day
catch their echo of jubilant cries
and contemplate your turn to fly.

peering out this excuse of a window
a crack, really, into a view less spectacular
barely catching self from tripping over
in this bed-sized atrocity of a room
that costs heaps more than an arm & a leg

oh, and don't venture out that door, today
that job you landed wasn't your first choice
and coffee tastes like something died in it
no, don't step into the street ever again
not for a second rate-life-- scraps for mains

take another look and refocus your lens;
hey, the smoke isn't that big, after all*



_ _ __✒
●○
•

scowling as a threatening storm cloud
sombre as a brooding sky
my errant thoughts stumble
and leave my tear ducts dry:
exhuming an abundant cascade
of strained expressions that reflect
a stained and bedraggled soul
whose fond recollections failed to connect.

take a stab
although it's dark
punch and jab
don't miss ye'r mark

tomorrow's fab
don't mind my back
pick up this tab
then hit the sack

'stab's on you
that last pint too

fresh and clean

to smell and feel

my favourite jeans

like second skin




but as i zip

i feel a lump

a *** of fluff

a foreign feel




i pulled and fished

but there remained

fibres and particles

in the pocket deep




i pinch the deep end

and pull it inside

'til it's fully out

a white-washed tongue




letting the wind

take up in its wings

the remaining fluff

of what once was




my marks and grades

of a school year done

obliterated, disintegrated

into lumps of pocket fluff

You would have died some time ago,
and several times over, since;
lost upon yourself, your day of birth:
as well as of the reason to be born.

In a gruelling process of ascent,
there upon this ever wearying rut;
mind and heart raised white flags,
leaving behind an ill-worn tune.

Perhaps it explains this spectral jaunt;
of faded jeans and dog-eared books,
as faint lip balm fragrance dissipates,
your erstwhile existence from us torn.

my finger traces 
a still barely 
visible band 
on my fourth finger 


our ex-anniversary 
is now my memory 

a constant companion 
to might-have-beens 

yesterday had so much 
prospect and promise 
today I face a sink 
filled with ***** dishes

Called a pain in the neck .
        always in the way
deaf in the ear
stubborn and strong willed--

It's time they realised
that's the way it's always been
and that's the way it'll always be!
          you call the shots
you were born breech

Keep Writing, Whatever Comes

Just keep writing, day by day,
Let words fall out, however they may.
The ink will guide you, though unsure,
In every line, a voice grows pure.

2. Engage with Poems and Poets

In the world of verse, connect, be bold,
Talk with others, both young and old.
Their words will teach, their lives inspire,
Fuel the flame that burns your fire.

3. Embrace Rejection, It’s Part of the Game

Expect the no’s, the "not quite right,"
Rejection’s a shadow, not a blight.
We are not all the same cup of tea,
Nor is every poet meant for thee.

4. Grow in Your Craft

With every word, with every line,
Grow your skills, refine your mind.
Knowledge will deepen, wisdom will show,
As you practice, your art will grow.

5. Control Your Rewards

Don’t wait for praise, don’t seek the gold,
Satisfaction’s yours, in stories told.
The joy is found in what you create,
Not in others’ judgment, not in their rate.

6. Welcome Good Critique

When feedback’s good, embrace the chance,
To learn, to grow, to dance the dance.
But discard the noise that doesn’t speak,
The truth is found in voices meek.

7. Be Kind to Yourself and Others

In the struggle, in the fight,
Be kind to self, keep the heart light.
Give grace to others, as you’d ask,
For kindness, friend, is its own task.

8. Keep Your Eyes Open

Look within, and look outside,
In both the still and the rolling tide.
The world will speak if you just see,
The poetry in all that’s free.

9. Enjoy the Journey

The path is winding, slow at times,
But joy is found in rhythm, rhyme.
Even struggle’s scent will lead the way,
In verse, there’s beauty in the fray.

10. Trust in Your Process

So write your truth, and write it loud,
Your voice will rise above the crowd.
The world may not understand just yet,
But keep writing—you’re not done, not set.

Much like Icarus, off they go; 
until condensation metes them 
reality's condescension:

Whose goals and objectives
are minute in life's greater scheme; 
wings fashioned from floss harps-

Yet they soar each firmament;
nary a doubt would sway resolve;
no tempest or tumult could dissuade.

If you chance upon a cloudless day
catch their echo of jubilant cries
and contemplate your turn to fly.*





●○
°

'

Who can tell the difference 
between gallantry and deceit; 
that is clear only to 
the querying breeze? 

Who could not smell 
the pungent heavy cloud 
before the pulling of 
the petulant wind? 

Further, afar off, no one inquires 
about foreseen mornings unseen 
dreams once winged zephyrs 
echo in forgotten hallways. 

Perched high on rock faces grim 
beneath the humming of the bird, 
awash on porous promontories - 
failure now permeates the abject soul.




_  _  __  ✒
○●
°

mess with this heart
why don't you? still
oblivious to all you are
all the effects you have
messing this here heart

swagger into the room
head careening askew
slurring pronouncements 
your fond affections spew
I lurv you..... I lurv you

why burden this heart
when sober, always aloof 
hardly your eyes meet mine
tongue-tied and twisted
no words, no touch, no smile


wake up, sober up and see
there is so much more here
more than cooler cans in hand
or that awful look in your eyes
as you sway, pleading, with me

in our interactions
we inevitably arrive
at a fun question:
cat person or dog?
and for once it's
good to be versatile

we're glued to touch screens
to the point of distraction
trending expressions an
empty cask of envy and esteem
a digital farce, a silent scream

it's wearing one's heart on

a wearisome online sleeve
and we are one more than
we are able to cope with
or willing to comprehend
we are touched but numb*



●○
•

each instant you
pull the quill, resting
between your breastbone
and your life's undulations;

treasures once hidden,
pulse and bubble over;
releasing that instance
uncovered then framed*




_ _ __ ✒
○●
°

will it ever be noticed
that hectare upon hectare
of grain fields pliantly line

countrysides in every nation;

but alas, they are only too often
overlooked... to far too many,
one field is much like the next...

shadowy sheets cover,
dark shining lips purse;
pointy ears ***** skyward
as corn stalks pondered
chanting scarecrows curse
in a sea of dreams left over

where bilious pigeons roost
coo and cackle with abandon
whose obstinate droppings steam
its stench envigorates lagging soul
here and ever after, songs remember*



●○
°

Tonight the sea is still
a moon hammocks on
a tide in its peak
on the coast reflected
shadowy in balmy breeze
a sentinel rain forest
lays watch on tranquil bay

Tonight come to your window
savour sea spray in the air
feast on the sounds of night
and waves lapping upon the shore
while pebbly tapping keeps time
no sadness prevails in this symphony
as the moon reconciles land and sea*




●○
°

Tendril wafted dunes
of barren sands waffle,
swirl across mile
upon mile in every direction-
your face appears a horizon away,
there is little comfort found
in accompanying echoes.

Drifting sticks
wail in the pitched wind,
stretched on distant recollection-
stylus of the scribe named Regret;
each flurrying breeze
turns a new page,
taking with it freshly shed tears.

Foetid droppings
of some wastrel desert vagabond
provide a vivid reminder
of how it can never be again,
to kick it away
would only contaminate
these well-worn wandering shoes.

Head facing forward
wherever the nose points
except in the back of the mind
where the oasis burbles-
each leafy frond conceals
intimate moments now buried
within the unmindful desert's gut.






___✒

if there be but two 

on this twilight moon's 

landscape, there might be 

in a galaxy of its own 

a hidden treasure trove 

of good and loved things 

that can be opened up 

and relished each day!

people's cupboards and fridges
tell a curious tale of everything
some a cluttered obstacle course
others an impenetrable rainforest
some coyly veiling their secrets
others flamboyantly revealing
mysteries both shallow and deep
behind doors their treasures keep

There are shadows all over
shining darkly in reverse;
pointy ears of impish horns,
whose stalks ravaged-worn;
chant rondeaus of dank curses
o
.n   .
  
  
        a sea of four-leaf clover.

courtliness promenades
intimate exchanges
crystal refractions

burst in a myriad
of coloured light
music to one's toes

jazzy fingers and
ballet chin, poised:
poetical interludes*




●○
°

'


Steely, piercing gaze 
steady and calculated 
scorn-etched lips, pout 
scathed grains discolour 

pearly teeth bared 
proudly held chin, gloats 
pencilled thoughts 
permanently carve this soul 

crafty words sliver 
carefully orchestrated chaos 
cornering all resolution 
creased yesterdays wither




____✒
○●
°

let's take a stroll through
flowing sheets as they waltz
with dappled sunlit melodies

reach out for crystal door handles
cool to touch, prismatic to eye
floorboards creak secrets

of years now lost to memory--
one day it shall rise again
in all its former glory*




●○
°

' 

Lulach Mac Gill, may your name 
be remembered still 
another thousand years - 
Freedom's memory fill. 

Let clansmen's voice 
'round the globe, arise 
Breathe in peace you bought 
dear, for Moray and Alba's skies. 

Law, equality and tolerance 
the weak protect 
Protectors of these ideals 
allow us to elect. 

Wield again with deftness 
your claidheamh mòr 
Speak truth, walk in grace 
Be no one's fool, forever more.




_ __ ✒
○●
°

Consider the song of a chirpy creek
or a bubbling brook
and serenading stream
or a rushing river rapid;
tis but a prelude to the roaring
symphony of the mighty ocean.

bright, loud
braggadocio
bold brougham

barreling down
main street
all until

braggadocious
wheels come off
at the slightest



●○
•

' 


Less than a bell's ****** 
fainter than a whistle 
stars in the sky twinkle 
your breath a hushed whisper 

O the tiniest sparkle 
dapple on glassy water 
far from distant heckles 
my soul freed from shackles





_ _ __✒
○●
°

your northern smile embraces -
shining stars in the dimming sky

sparkles burst and pierce me
such brightness lightens my load
another day closes, sun sleeps
another night begins, stars keep

a hope of us together one day

across an ocean that divide us
steps hasten screen door bangs
my chin lifts, eyes peering deep
this night is your day my sweet

slumber with fondest thoughts
our souls' yearning tendrils enlace.

in irony, walk the earth
on chopped green impetus...

Much like Icarus, off they go;
until condensation metes them
reality's condescension.

Shoulders slump as footsteps fade into
the darkened hallway; out of sight.
Then a click-sound of a door, shut;
punctuates a chest-heaving full-stop.

Regret now seeps across the
tidal plain, waiting in vain hope
for a reverse ebb that doesn't arrive.
Regret, only regret remains:

Strain and hear that inaudible sigh
as you lock lips in silhouetted embrace;
It was the kiss of a toxic cocktail--

It's the burnt smell of rubber
that lingers thick in the air after
the smouldered wreck on the road.

It's the ping of a pin dropping
after a grenade had been lobbed
and the afterthought of my diving --

But did I dive to shield you or
was it to duck out of the way?

Regret is the sound of pebbles
tapping off a casket lid as they
bounce from a cascade of apologies.

Still that door clicks shut -- the last time.
Your footfalls fade into the bright,
searing light of pain that is left behind.*




_ _ __ ✏
●○
°

This is your ultimate admonition
To set perspective in proportion
Of an age old curse, set in motion
It's time to take out the tanning lotion!