#none
The house is quiet with your gone,
your name still caught in every wall.
I tried to face it sober once—
the grief was louder than it all.
So I leaned into the burning glass,
let silence blur, let memory bend,
each drink a step away from you,
each night pretending not to end.
But morning breaks the fragile lie—
you’re gone, the truth comes crashing through.
No bottle drowns the shape of loss,
it only deepens missing you.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 1:14 PM UTC
As the night falls and the rain begins.
Looking into my window
Seeing my reflection and resonate with
Every raindrop that touches within
A heart that numbs when thinking
My soul drifts away
Into my safe state
Imagining memories to cope
Reality awake
Wanting to drift of to sleep
Cannot comprehend why
This feeling runs so deep
Teardrops on my cheeks
No not weak
Just overwhelmed by fear
Because
We don’t know
Where this madness goes.
Mar 12
Mar 12, 2026 at 6:01 PM UTC
perhaps a certain naivety
the power of positive thinking
deeply desired, longed-for hope
responding to the horrors spread
across centuries of human history
our proven track record for conflict
of war upon war upon war upon war
the choice made for a different path
one of treaties, institutions and laws
places, spaces, opportunities for all
gathered about a shared humanity
which might hold back the flood
resist the tidal ebbs and flows
of tribes, nations and empires
colonialism of land, resources
and for a while they worked
or gave the semblance of
so we bought into them
carried by the dream
yet it only stretched
as far as those with vision
would do the work, pay the cost
carry the peoples with them
build, create a reality
or at least try
new leaders arose
wrapped in power's hubris
the arrogance and ambition of
despot, dictator and demagogue
and of regular pragmatic politicians
who do the calculus of confrontation
the cost benefit analysis of slaughter
justification reasoned and considered
of decisions made in secure bunkers
firing up the propaganda machines
mobilize masses on the streets
wrapped in nationalism's flag
drums beat, the pipes skirl
old rhythms stir the blood
turbocharge social media
emergency laws enacted
overriding the constitution
sidelining the law, the courts
masked forces cruising streets
police, the military, vigilantes too
'them' facing a predatory violence
falling in love with war once more
god siding with the big battalions
so they claim, might deemed right
cranks up the production of death
drones, missiles, bombs, the web
and thus the helter-skelter slips
sliding towards the abyss
when will it be too late
to heed the prophets' words
turn spears into pruning hooks
and swords into ploughshares
even dare to love enemies
to learn war no more
when will it be
to late
Jan 13
Jan 13, 2026 at 2:30 AM UTC
easy to ridicule
yet we spotted the signs
considered the implications
discussed, drew our conclusions
might have left it there, a morsel
filed with accumulated wisdom
passing down the generations
with all that has gone before
yet this required action, urgency
and campfire stories would not do
neither traders nor yet messengers
must see ourselves the truth of it
so off across the plains
following the sky-wonders
mountains, rivers, deserts
joy of the quest, dangers too
seeking, searching, inquiring
traits of rare trust these days
rest places beyond number
the blessings of hospitality
generosity to strangers
journey westward still
with but one false step
who wouldn't seek a prince
in royal courts and palaces
arrived eventually, Bethlehem
under that still watchful star
poor the workers' quarter
a simple temporary home
living space, a work bench
parents, child in whose eyes
reside the depths, the heights
of being, of existence, of ......
totality yet totally vulnerable
we, somewhat out of place
our robes, the rich gifts given
gold, frankincense and myrrh
make of them what you will
yet nothing less than best
was due that infant child
but after having seen
been seen, a question
are we wandering fools
ever the **** of the joke
costly, irrelevant and late
or of other significance
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 3:04 PM UTC
never mind lords-a-leaping
ladies dancing, drummers drumming
and far too much assorted bird-life
nor even those five gold rings
never mind that night
sleeping out beneath the stars
well maybe not so much sleeping
as discovering passion, love even
today it all comes to this
a business deal at the city gate
redeeming the family inheritance
land for sale and with it me
or the land the sweetener
for taking on the widow
to keep the name alive
a responsibility many avoid
trading begins, Boaz and a relative
to one I'm a liability, to be shunned
for the other a prize to be won
they haggle, it's my life yet
and now the deal is done
as witnessed by the elders
paid for, should I be offended
or rejoice, my future secured
doing what needs to be done
what survival here, now requires
a man's imagination and heart
capture, possibilities create
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 3:02 PM UTC
was something there
a little frisson in a look
or simply compassion
community expectation
of wealthy landowners
enough left at harvest
for those in life's rough
yet one glance too many
for mere duty's sake
a particular welcome
encouragement to stay
glean, gather only here
water in the day, food
almost one of the team
but what next, such risk
foreigner, of a hated tribe
accepted for Naomi's sake
yet a mis-step, all could fall
not, and what might be lost
move quietly in the shadows
slip silenttly through the night
avoiding attention needs care
denoument in the darkness
cloak lifted, slips beneath
tentative touching shocks
a fierce passion roused
arms, and lips, and *****
bodies with souls uniting
till shared hungers sated
presence rests in silence
murmurings intersperse
with possibilities open
for shared becoming
communal niceties
legal requirements
notwithstanding
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 3:01 PM UTC
far from home
some foreign land
survival's the question
as it has always been
for those on the edge
refugees or just folk
down on their luck
whose world's fallen
into some deep abyss
needing a helping hand
a welcome, acceptance
kindness, consideration
and for Ruth it was there
in the person of Boaz
the laws of the land too
don't gather dropped corn
don't harvest to field's edge
don't double pick the vines
leave them for the poor
so all who are in need
and struggling
to survive
can
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 2:59 PM UTC
buried deep in the 'begats'
among the many generations
identified more by patriarchy
than relational complexity
lurk interesting women
distubers of the peace
playing by other rules
of survival in a world
of women often used
used up and replaced
superceded, discarded
Tamar, Rahab, Bathsheba
Mary and of course Ruth
King David's great-granny
who captured Boaz's heart
through her faithfulness
to mother-in-law Naomi
'where you go, I shall go
where you live, I shall live
your people will be my people
and your God will be my God
where you die, I shall die
and there I shall be buried'
and his ***** in a dalliance
in the fields by moonlight
but a foreigner and worse
despised, detestable of Moab
lower than the lowest of the low
yet loved, honoured, an ancestor
not just for David but Jesus too
stepping outside the acceptable
forcing herself into the history
never an anonymous cipher
named, revered, a 'begat'
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
with explosions
rolling around the world
lighting up the midnight sky
the old year passes to the new
resolutions made, maybe to keep
photo-montages and quizzes reflect
a year on which the door's now closed
an open book, fresh page for the new
except its already blotted, stained
by all our on-going, persistent stuff
baggage hung still requiring attention
troubles unresolved, dreams unfulfilled
to say nothing of the world's horrors
streaming through our screens
disturbing our tranquility
fears beyond hope
but this eighth day
a child was named
following tradition
Jesus, the Lord saves
and titles were given
Emmanuel, God-with-us
Prince of Peace among others
and the Logos, the Word
became flesh and
dwelt among us
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 2:51 PM UTC
I — (03/18/2025)
I thought I might be able to
revisit this tonight. No,
&
II — (03/23/2025)
There are brief moments where
the thought of you whistles by
and I'm reminded of the time
we spent spitting **** abreast
your apartment door, exhaling
lungfulls of this and that,
&
III — (03/24/2025)
I hope you when your hand
met mine in awkward cordiality
and your pupils dilated at
my skin-stretched smile
found some sage and cedar
peels tucked in the cheek of
some future me,
&
—
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 12:20 AM UTC
a potion maker,
seeking the formulae
of the combination
of the
known and the none,
the wizard’s ideation
of the secret spark of
creation, the starter fire
of human destiny & desire
who needs gold,
when,
the power of birth,
the mystery of girth
the fluids of oils,
plus 57 varieties
of human blood,
in a precise tabulation
the sap of human cell
constructs, heated
gentle on a low flame,
do not forget, or regret
if the salt & pepper
of discernment is
overlooked, the sighs,
*the quiet of boredom,
the leveling moments
when creation is initiated*
and then
my heart can be
known to some,
even careful read
between the lines ~
the lines on my eyes,
the cross hatch upon
a forehead, the crinkles
where time and laughter
intersected and injected
*the whites spaces between
these words*
enough enigma…
never!
Jan 26, 2025
Jan 26, 2025 at 10:12 AM UTC
I've thought deep and true for an idea,
Of a topic I can center my poem on.
There was none that surfaced,
So none shall it be.
No weight of subject to anchor us down,
No limits to hinder, no thoughts to drown.
In the vast expanse where stillness is known,
The heart of nothingness is brightly shown.
Akin to the sound of one hand clapping,
Like raging winds in the eye of the storm,
Let us contemplate on nothing,
Let us define the absence of form.
A blank canvas for something to exist,
The absence for the heart to grow fond,
It is a silence so deep, where echoes are drawn,
The root of the void where all things are gone.
Without, none, nothing, doesn't exist,
Synonyms, or a sentence wrongly punctuated.
One thing is for certain: this poem's been fun.
A topic to discuss, indeed I have... none.
Jul 21, 2024
Jul 21, 2024 at 7:46 PM UTC
The premise of amounting to nothing,
Can be comforting.
If you think you are capable enough
To affect real change.
And if you are, and
Do not, you are no
Man. And if
None of us act,
We are all ******
May 30, 2023
May 30, 2023 at 10:23 PM UTC
she was never in love
and never will
my hope was lost
but i like her still
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 5:44 AM UTC
A warm Southern summer night
Dozens of cork bobbers
Dancing the night away
Speaking softly.
Where has it gone
A thought not one had.
We were taught not to wonder.
It's just life
The way it has always been.
Mar 13, 2021
Mar 13, 2021 at 6:10 PM UTC
There is no need for noble graces, with you, I have none. Just one entreat, request and command: "Come."
'You' see me for what I truly am, behind this regalia of dignity and honour; hides a ****** man. Now come, and heed my command.
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 2:44 PM UTC
this void,
is eating you alive
yet you kept on feeding it, knowing how much it kills you
maybe,
you wanted to disappear too.
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 7:27 AM UTC
You’ve infected that part of me
that cries when I’m alone
Now my tears are iron chains
that block me from the sun
I feel none
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 9:48 AM UTC