The fields of gold—
Looking grave
as past faces
caught up quickly,
smothering any presence
with smoldering reminders.

Alas, the echelons of memories
stood tall, like soldiers
steadfast, unwavering
to the imminent fall.

They remind him of his reflection,
belabored by reality’s labor.
Lines buried in sand,
etched onto his head—
burning coals of souls
that throttle his legs into motion.

He runs, and runs,
coerced to send the sun
his kinetic aspirations,
to deflect and reflect,
to dissolve prophecies beleaguered.

For it is he
who devises the Devil
of his own doing.

Waves welcomes the moon.
Hues of the dusk moves down the horizon.
I sat there, feet deep in sand
watching people escape with the tide
only to be pulled back into their prosaic life.

As i feel the sand around my feet
i wish i could embed my roots and
grow here once again as a plant,
leaving everything behind.

As the urge to swim toward
the other side gets stronger
i pull my feet up from the ground
and walk away as the street lights bloom.

It was only last October
When you finally swept away
Any traces of our friendship
And you buried its remains

It triggered my escapism
So I could hide from nights of pain
I did not make the best decisions
But at least I was okay

I was reliant on the meds
So I would never have to face
The truth about our friendship
That was so clearly a mistake

And when you left for Houston,
It was then when I would break
I could not accept my reality
Which was keeping me awake

And the park where we would play
To pretend that we were eight
We knew we looked like idiots
But together, we were safe

But I realized I was in captivity
From the memories of that place
I was interrogated by inner demons
And I found myself in chains

So that ship has finally sailed
Her cruise had left today
People move on and priorities change...


When you wish they'd stay the same.

Heaven forbid
I should live in the ******* moment.
Heaven forbid
I should feel without obstacle.
Heaven forbid
I should kiss you, here and now.
Heaven forbid
I should step outside of my box of worries.
Heaven forbid!

fleeting feelings, fleeing when i arrive
'fraid of facing me and
my somber sobriety and violent sighs
the night stays by me all the time
when he, the sun, chooses to hide
fleeing just as i do, my footprints 'gainst the soil
squished soles in the marshlands of may
the remnants of me on mother's display
a whisper of rain befalls me, just as i fall
with my back towards the world
putting these fleeting feelings behind me
as i burn with the promise
of summer on my mind

and im sure
im so, so sure
a ghost like me
needs not to explain
my escape.

Paper and Pen
Has always been
My weapon of choice
Carrier of my voice
My comfort, my escape
Here on the page;
I feel most safe.



Still somedays I wonder
If only my voice could speak
As articulately
Perhaps the world could be
Just as meant for me...



So maybe.
I'll just try, a little
To speak out
With words that are not brittle.

There are people whom believe to escape the mind, you must travel and see the world. Little do they know they are just carrying the baggage of their hearts. Running away will get you nowhere, it will only lead you face to face with reality but to write, it is where you discover the beauty of ones heart, the inner child you thought you had lost. If you must escape, look within and try writing.

My office gave me a computer so I could work from home (during the Covid crisis)
They also gave me a work phone as my job entails taking calls from the public,
It's strange but I've been doin' this job for years
And I've always had this stammer... this funny stammer
Yet luckily I've always been able to get by
I've never let it bother me that much
But now though, since working from home I'd noticed my stammer was getting progressively worse
Maybe it was all the isolation, the lack of interaction with others
But I found myself struggling with words/sounds that had never bothered me before
It was beginning to become a real worry
What was I gonna do !!!
So I started to take a drink or two, a couple of glasses of wine along with a can (or two) of beer
And listen to some music on my own phone
Hoping it would relax me more
Sometimes it'd work, sometimes... sometimes not
But then one day... one day Lana del Rey came into my life
Yea! I discovered the songs and music of Lana del Rey
What a voice and the things she could do with it, it seemed so effortless
What an Enchantress
She'd transport me off to some other world faraway
So between work calls, in the gaps in-between
I'd have her songs on and be watching her videos on YouTube
I used lose myself in her world
Now I didn't care anymore about work or phone calls or whether I stammered or not
Suddenly I was Mr. Cool driving down a motorway in LA with my sunglasses on in my Chevy Malibu
Or maybe hanging out, chilling with Lana's crew
(maybe on a thirteenth beach somewhere)
And when she'd be singing something melancholy, something blue
I'd be there comforting her saying  "I know Lana, I understand, sure Me! I'm a King of Melancholy too".

Well one Friday I was feeling kinda happy and good about life
I'd survived another week in the job and had a long weekend to look forward to as I had Monday off
And yes! I'd had a few drinks as well and was away again lost in Lana land
I had her songs on and a video was playing
Suddenly I felt I needed to go for a ***
So I put Lana on hold saying "Excuse me Lana"
But then... just then my work phone rings, there's someone on the line,
I say to myself I better take this call
I'll get rid of him quick (famous last words)
I don't know if this guy was lonely or just liked the sound of my voice
But I just could not get him off the phone
Sometimes the phone calls they'd remind me  of the old Air Aces back in World War I
In their biplanes, shooting at one another, those dogfights in the sky
(They should have had us wearing bomber jackets)
But if this guy was an Air Ace, then he was the Red Baron
I couldn't shake him, just couldn't get him off my tail, could not get him off the phone
He's like... he's like feckin Columbo (the detective off the TV)
It's like he's finished, he's just going out the door
But then he turns around and comes back with another question
"Can I ask you...this...
Can I ask you...that...
Would you mind answering this question...
Just one more thing...
Just one more question....
One last question....
One final question...
You're very good, can I ask you....
Sorry for taking up all your time but can I ask you....
You're very knowledgeable, it's great to get someone you can talk to, so you're saying....
Is that the way it works, can I ask you..."
At this stage I'm bustin' to go to the loo
It's getting to emergency stations, my poor bladder
What am I going to do!!!
Should I excuse myself and tell him I've got to go to the loo
But that's not very professional, I'd never ever done that before
Anyway I'm thinking I have no other alternative
But then suddenly... suddenly I spy this empty bottle on my shelf
It's an unusual bottle with thick glass and it has this lovely wooden capped cork which can be easily pulled out and put back in again
(I kept it 'cos I thought it might come in handy if I had a corked bottle of wine
And the cork got messed up with the corkscrew
I could put any surplus wine in there)
So I'm looking at this bottle and... I have an idea
"Desperate situations call for desperate measures", I think
"You gotta do what you gotta do,
And of course, their always saying you should be creative and innovative in your work"
So I take down the bottle, tell Lana to avert her eyes
I take out the cork, unzip the fly of my pants
Get my Old Boy out and start peeing into the bottle
I'm mightily relieved and I'm thinking Ha! Ha!
Go on you ****** ask me another question, I don't care now....I'm free!!!
I'm proud of myself "What a Pro !" I'm thinking,
The next thing a whole lot of *** comes flying out of the bottle, like a bottle of champagne gushing out
Shooting out all over the place, all over my pants and my shirt
I'd miscalculated the amount of *** and the size of the bottle
I never knew I peed that much (well you learn something new everyday)
And the guy is still talking to me on the phone
And all I'm thinking is "Jaysus I'm after peeing all over myself"
And finally... finally, at long...looong... looooong last the guy, he gets off the phone, halleluia!!!
I'm left there completely deflated, soaked in my own ***
Broken and disconsolate, all my illusions shattered
No longer am I Mr.Cool driving down a motorway in LA
No longer am I either Mr. All-understanding Melancholy Guru Man
No! Now I'm just... just some guy whose after peeing all over himself
I look at my phone and there's Lana looking back at me, still on hold
I switch her on again, she's singing that lovely song "Love"
She does that lovely little shimmy with her shoulders for a second
Then she gives me that cute little wink and the lovely smile
I think to myself "Well, at least Lana still likes me"
But I feel guilty, I feel I got to explain, got to apologise
"Sorry Lana", I say, "I guess...I guess they don't make heroes like they used to".

Then I start to think 'This working from home is really fraught with danger, lucky there's no cameras on these computers or they'd be saying "I don't believe what I've just seen, what's that feckin' eejit doing now"

But then I think "Still, the customer went away happy, I didn't let it faze me too much, I saw it through... me and my funny stammer...what a Pro!
Maybe I was... maybe I am...a hero after all.