empty bottle filled
sun-dapple prisms through glass
light as air to breathe*




.

the early worm escapes the bird*

(and why not? the tortoise won
its race against a speedy hare)

there's a place for everything,
it's been said with stillest voice;
and everything has a place,
resonant clarity without rebuttal

yet who's to know which is which
when reckoning has flicked the switch?
where face value's swiftly defaced
conveniently with removing cream*



●○
°

' 


*Provide us just scales 
with which to measure 
determine the truth 
provide no displeasure 

be objective and distant 
make sure you're blindfolded 
mete out the verdict 
swift and without fail. 

But for the value of life 
remember your own 
Each breath you take 
opportunities blown 

Justice is never served 
for the dead remain dead 
their chances forfeited 
memories defaulted 

punitive arrangements 
may placate the bereaved 
but the dead remain deceased. *





_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

There are shadows all over
Shining darkly in reverse;
Pointy ears of impish horns,
Whose stalks ravaged worn;
Chant rondeaus of curses
On a sea of four-leaf clover.

In a dream of night before me rose 
I walked along an endless shore; 
moist sand glowed a silvery pink, 
danced to lights in the waning sun; 
its length moving, curved around 
dotted stars in the form of a heart. 

I peered ahead and looked behind, 
shifted my gaze from side to side; 
waiting to catch a glimpse of you 
and fall within your gaze as you 
engaged my eyes in an embrace, 
but only feel the sighing wind. 

The soft sand crunched under me; 
a powdery kiss upon my soles. 
Still I searched, marching onward, 
past the crest into a dimpled vale, 
and realised that I was inside you, 
clear waters surrounded your days. 

I then began to shut my eyes to see 
and focus upon the things we share; 
pulling together joined memories, 
realising you had taken me there 
into the core of your daily chores-- 
carrying me through your world

We are wise not to meddle
with the words of yon Muse
allowing them to touch us
avowed by torchlit trysts 
each thought cradled in nettle
elegaic vine rows muse
such fearsome elegance behold!

hard as we try to remember
grinding up mindless banter

green grass, yellow slander

what good is hay to a dead horse,
or a spring dried at its source?*




_ _ __✒
●○
°

forever in their shadows
only if you stay still
it takes but a sidestep 

in blinding light
find yourself bright
stage lights beam

in all angles vary
step out of darkness
into your own light 

in life's Olympiad
keep steady your pace
run your very own race

in life's grand opera
you are a soloist-
there are no second voices

in life's orchestra-
you are a symphony
there are no second fiddles

in life's parade
a winding cavalcade
there are many drums

'

*Dour faced 
you stepped into a gaping precipice 
leaving me with 
my face moist 

at the threshold 
(its frame now leaning 
to one side 
splintered and unhinged.) 

Did I tell you that my front door 
never opened to the street? 
Maybe I never had the need to; 
you always entered through the back door, 

you always crept out the window 
to play in the sun. 
This time was different: 

Before another word could be spoken 
you rushed past me 
brushing my outstretched arm(s) . 
Then all I could see 

was your hair tumbling in the air 
as your limbs flailed 
while you plummeted out of my life. *





_ _ __✒
●○
°

high upon august rocky crags
parapets against blazing skies
resonate with sparkling ease
when these earthly travels cease
hear its revelation in the breeze
while in heaven, revelries
will garland eternal peace

scowling at a threatening storm cloud 
sombre as a brooding sky
your errant thoughts stumble
sore, leaving tear ducts, dry:

exhuming an abundant cascade
of strained expressions that ill-
reflect a stained and bedraggled soul
whose fond recollections oft fail to connect.*


●○
•

There is darkness in the light 
that filters from the sun of a day 
and light in the darkness that blankets our nights. 

There is vision, to the astute eye 
& to the keen mind's sensibility; 
thus making those aware of this, able

to hence proceed with prudent steps... 
Love, it has been said, can & does conquer all. 
All else in life is fluff & circumstance.

nothing
quite as blue
but I haven't
a blinkin' clue

nothing
quite as glum
as depression
on an empty tum



●○
°

warmth envelops
dissolving the
bustle and noise
liquid stillness
offers but a momentary
tranquil once upon a time
it is so easy to
drift off and forget

here the watery balm
soothes celiac rashes
a moment's reprieve
that shuts out reality
provides sombre retreat
cares float away
until unwanted thoughts
stray with blistered report

it is quite possible
through bolted locks
to lay hapless victim
to home invasion
for someone to play
Corday to one's Marat
unwitting and stabbed
at home in one's bath

people these days
are our solitary
point of reference

unless we're old enough
to recall 'back in the day'
to compare smoke signals

with cellphone signals; well
most of us can't even
speak or 'read' Morse.*



_ _ __✒
●○
•

backwater
paddler
none ever
sadd'yer

never seein'
th'mainstream,
hope remains
only in dreams

together,
friends forever:
man and canoe,
downstream on cue



●○
•

words whispered beneath willowy fronds, are autumn leaves carressing cheeks

thoughts rising from creamy pages of vellum bound tomes over a cuppa

feelings cascading between brushstrokes propped by elemental easel

images flicker on antiquated screens in the midnight hours pilgrimages

meaning; spectral apparitions that intermittently condescend our audience

there doesn't ever seem to be in them enough sense or consolation

blood skies, day or night
heavens speaking
loud and bright
rainbows chasing
dreams take flight
yesterday's flailings
now out of sight*




●○
°

there must be light still
at willow creek, though
I'm a million miles away

there's a reason for everything 
though ours is still out there
what remains is your empty chair

this season of grief has lingered 
seven years tarried too soon
an abysmal moment here; marooned*




●○
•

arching
back and back again
from explosive exertion
electric impulses spilling

over, pulse
passed insulation
scrambling
thought and senses

blanking
out and out again
excessive expulsion
emotive impact stilling

inner resolve
past motivation
dissipating;
thoroughly quenches*



●○
°

Would you know my gait
If merely my words parade,
While everything else lay hid?
Perhaps, should you have shared
In my thought and conversation.
Perhaps your soul recalls-
Once, some time ago, I know
We rode the waves of my verse.

years and seasons
both, people passing
moving on, outgrowing
all too-fleeting moments
of convergence, perfect
perhaps traversing, along
parallel paths, pilgrims
on a poetic journey, home*



●○
°

amusing exchanges;
remind me to tell
you about it later!

do not let your heart be dismayed
nor allow your countenance to fall
the shadows that surround are many
their stretching tendrils make you small

even a tiniest spark breaks darkness

and brightens up the darkest night*


●○
°

Herds
at full gallop
across
verdant rolling plains

Rushing
rivers slither
rampant
to open watered seas

Astride
distant stretches
uproar
of oceans and waves

Plateau
oases stretch on
speckled sable blanket:
stars keep wishes fed*




_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

Popcorn is flowing
buttery bright;
Write sabres sparking,
left and right. 
Many have fallen,
many have fled.
Some remain faithful
like voices in my head. 
A few now frozen
in Merlin's stead.
Tomorrow perhaps
we'll walk into the light; 
behind us a memory
of a dream in the night.

raise again this chalice,
fearsome and seductive;
that brims with venom
and sparkles with promise

that in the twilight beckons...

Raise this goblet
to once satin lips
now runnelled with
bypassed dreams,

you hope, but hope in vain...

Gulp down your fill,
wait for forgetfulness still;
let the dregs of this cup
caress your wearied mind,

'til dawn tops it up again.*




●○
°

if you feel all alone,
then we're all alone, together...*


●○
°

in stillness lay a day
under the trembling air
Zephyr's dulcet exhaling
plucks gently on a lyre

subtle melodies to ear
each note snatches droplets
of sweet nectar; of delight
covert by fronds dancing

in the belly of the night
all through wee measures
pleasant whispers portray
fond joys and merry play*



●○
°

We never burn bridges
though we never need to
cross over that particular one

again - hence

we build new ones, upstream,
and closer, so much closer
to the heart of our dream*


●○
°

it has been said that poetry
is the straight and narrow road
to a woman's heart of hearts;

        but alas, for me

              it has been the escape pod
from that woman who once,
but no longer, has regard for me*





_ _ __✒
●○
°

stood tall with chest
puffed out, so proud
to be this big boy, now
your dependable little man

'you're man of the house, now
so take care of mum and the kids'
all seven years of life straining
to comprehend what's going on

but all that was forthcoming
was a handshake,
a clap on the back,
fading footsteps,
and two swinging
khaki duffel bags*



●○
°

these thoughts like refined gold,
after years of firing in a kiln,
and they're burning ever hotter
spilling onto sheets of paper
smouldering stains never fade
indelible impressions never old

wonder at boiling blood
would they scald veins
all that rage would soon
bust vessels for naught
spewing bright fountains
of sanguinal disillusion*



●○
°

your formula worked
and people turned
their ears and listened

what if eternity valued
more that wasn't worth
much at all, here on earth

what if there in the after
life;  what's uncool rocked
and what's cool is blocked

then maybe we'd drop
the show and striving
just to be real, not conniving

what are the chances, now
what are thr possibilities
of unveiling life's intricacies?*




●○
°

for despite obstacles
or stacked-up odds
we must forge a path,
relentlessly represent
and trek what's ahead,
what's yet to be explored

Squatting on promise -
verdant crest of Mount Parnassus,
on the cusp of a new revelation;

a late-coming realisation:

now at Inspiration's doorstep,
reality is an unexplored frontier.
Here I stand, unwelcome again.*




●○
°

two joined, separated a brother, now one 
and his brother's friend, a friend that loved 
filled that emptiness 
that hearth and home could not mend 
one fateful day 
their ways crossed to wayward wend
what tears run streaks 
on your redded-cheeks 
why the furtive pulse in your eyes, 
it shows so plain a plan
to bring him back 
though a means to do 
so sorely lack 
keep alive that sacred part 
you filled his heart and thus 
wherever he may be 
there shall you also remain 
his friend, no brother nor blood 
no rain nor wind would understand

a tortured artist
struck by barbs--
pain of restrictions

or inopportune expression

a suffering poet, wracked
burning, molten words
boiling from deep within

seek release by any means;

every manner it seems,
insufficient and incomplete:
lifelong quest continues on*


●○
•

imagine your surprise
as you irrevocably realise
everything can be bought
and everyone has a price

what exquisite shock ensues
when you take off $ signs
unveil powers of exchange
and begin to live accordingly*




●○
•

nothing held sacred;
make our heads churn,
no one deemed holy
save our only concern

value of waning life
drowned by strife's urn
no elegance of phrase;
wordless grace return*





●○
°

it has been said that poetry 
is the straight and narrow road
to a girl's heart of hearts;
for me, alas, it has been an escape pod
from that girl that once 
but no longer has regard for me
so here, strewn among broken branches
severed petals and crushed buds
are what remains of love's labour lost
it has also been said that it's better
to love and lost than to have never
loved at all
perhaps they never felt the pain
or cried bitter tears that freely fall

what I know
I breathe, I speak
no dissuading
no breath-holding
no otherwise

persuade

there upon
a ******* heap
a bloom emerges
its fragrance
perfumes life's stench



○●
°

sometimes, indecisiveness
is just the wrongest decision
for anyone to ever make

sometimes we just have
to dive in and go with our gut
embracing whatever may result;

sometimes, apologies are enough
when things don't go your way
because it's time to do it ours

sometimes, getting first time right
is not what your life has shown
so, it's okay for me to have another go

it's only taken forty years for you
to realise you love me and be proud
perhaps another forty'll make you really care

your boomer ways are so busted
they don't work here and now
perhaps we need to find our own way

it won't break your ego to be supportive
respect is not earned but extended
perhaps you only need to trust & believe;

every time a child's heart breaks
a memory jolts this scathing parody
perhaps this curse can be broken still:

it doesn't take much to make it right*




_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

so little is reliant on
a brewing *** of morning
or wafting wisps of grain

whose warmth presses lips,
pulses patter 'neath veins
and butter dribbles freely

as a grapefruit réveille
parades playfully above
an eye-rubbing horizon

tousling tree-top buds,
changing hues in the wind
while dreams of night evaporate*



●○
°