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JJ Inda Jun 7
The mornings are rich,
full of light and warmth.
and although the day may be poor,
heavy and tiresome
and the night may be restless
cold and disturbingly quiet;
hidden in that darkness lies the promise
of the coming dawn.
JJ Inda Mar 30
Ticking clock
drives me mad,
can't let go
what I never had.
I'm just passing through,
not planting seeds
or laying down roots,
I'm temporary, like the morning dew.
JJ Inda Feb 23
She never understands poetry,
with all it's metaphors
and symbology;
no, she is more concrete.

She is not a fan of Shakespeare,
prefers Jane Austen;
clear words,
structure plot.

She does enjoy a drink
and lazy afternoons,
the ocean, the beach.
Most of all she fits.
JJ Inda Feb 12
Hemingway lived three lives;
  a hunter,
a novelist
and a soldier.
Also briefly,
    a father.
At times
it seemed
he lived
not three
but, five
as it came undone,
it was
just the one.
JJ Inda Feb 9
Needed someone
to understand
if you fall
you can get up again.
-Why glass bottles
are full of sand,
how it goes
round and round.
Nothing's bound forevermore
not hate nor love.
JJ Inda Jan 19
There's talk of redemption
in crowded halls,
and as they adjust the dial
there's an addendum.
hard to tell
just who is right
although everyone knows
who is wrong.
no doorway in sight
in this mirror funhouse,
but the poor have TV's now
isn't that nice?
JJ Inda Dec 2020

yet, ever-changing.

Just as waves

on the beach;

so are the years

and us.
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