have ceased stretching
out for your touch
your silhouette ~

fractal scratches
on cheeks seared
by a scathing, east wind

as breath is left
stale, in regret's
sighing breeze*



_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

mind and thought are not the least bit important, once free,
they only find meaning and usefulness when they are taken in and received
by those of whom these words have brought pain and joy and fear;
as a parched land holds less water:
moist terrains host more aqueous bodies

The street moves beneath us,
shifting without command,
we say we walk freely,
but the road has already been carved.
Someone chose its shape
long before our steps left their weight.

A voice rises, measured, cautious,
another shouts before listening—
the argument swells, ripples outward,
each side gripping their claim
like dry earth clinging to rain.

What if the road is neither theirs nor ours?
What if we pull too hard,
and the thread between us frays?

This world tilts in fractions,
some lean into history,
others push toward tomorrow—
the balance flickers,
a candle resisting the wind.

one shall never a proper poet be...
save by those that look upon thee,
however, it is their perception, see;
thought & feelings through words set free.*



●○
°

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!
                                        I call the shots
I was born breech.

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*




_ _ __ ✒
○●
°

She 
used to make me 
eat mouldy food! 

"Oh, that..." she'd
reply to my protest

then she'd scoop off 
the mouldy top layer 
and hand me a vile dish! 

"It's still good...
you can't put a
good thing to waste."
"Erm, thanks???"*



●○
°

'

Cry we all toward places unnamed 
Rise above the crested hills 

We will yell - shattering door frames 
Plundering thoughts of plovered wills 

Tear at the wallpaper - reveal the grain 
Ink the slate - etched by wound-dipped quills 

Crouch, prowl - ready to pounce on game 
Brandishing swords, blaring trumpets shrill 

Arching backs, phosphorescent wicks aflame 
Ridding netted fish of scales and smelly gills 

Driving forward, driven onward - scourging rain




_ __ ✒
●○
°

' 


auction your ciphers 
whether cryptic or plain; 
express your disdain, 
princes and paupers, 
your joys and your pains 

upload them web-wide, 
your caustic protuberance; 
spread digital conflagration 
let relentless talons purge 
the sting of sulfur on brimstone






___✒
○●
°

In whispers soft, the dawn will break,
Embrace the light, let shadows flee,
With every breath, a chance to wake,
Life’s fleeting dance, a gift to see.

The world awaits, a canvas wide,
In whispers soft, the dawn will break,
With open arms, we rise and ride,
With every breathe, a chance to wake.

Through trials faced, the victor’s call,
Embrace the light, let shadows flee,
From dawn’s first light to evening’s fall,
Life’s fleeting dance, a gift to see.

little bundle
loud and quiet
always in cookie jar

meatball slaloms
sudsy soap and
band-aid wrappers

life, once tabula rasa
an empty page
now coloured-in*



●○
°

the "Valley of Vision"
has caught my eye
lay captive my heart
captured my wandering mind

your cup sends me reeling
a haughty tower trembling
never again to be rebuilt

two men once hung from a tree
the one cursed his life upon himself
the other condemned eternally

neither the valley nor in the plain
did the eye cast its mark
felled by projectile true
a day no one can rue

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.

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


●○
°

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*




●○
°

°

coloured sand pours
rainbow~streaked tears
where the rains bleached
this sunburnt heart with
acid talons of your disdain




_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

quiet rain-kissed bed
dewy blooms of verse caress
tempest shatters peace

poet on the run
pulls a Bachman manoeuvre
forgets all, save self

dawn's early light breaks
ever silently reveals
hope of reunion

years and seasons passing
persons moving on, away
from moments, perfectly
converged; perhaps still
memory sweet in time

parallel courses, across
pioneering spaces, once
again unite, wayfarers
through portals, dusks
and dawns of rebirth*


●○
°

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

'love?' you say,
have a canapé
vulnerability
opens up our
jugular, to so

much hurt, to pain
be crushed and dashed
and maimed
destroyed with
utter disdain

we are contrarily
brought up
to be strong
independent
no one's fool

always look out
for number one
be proud, stand tall
headstrong, but
in pride, we fall

in that simple way
on any given day--
we are flawed lovers;
'love,' you say? here's
another canapé*




●○
°

it has finally arrived
the belly of night
no longer offers
dark mysteries
or mortal fright

and these million
scurrying thoughts
scour through his mind
with a deafening march
that leaves him blind*




●○
°

psychological warfare 101
oldest trick in the book
throw it back in their faces
without remorse or afterthought




●○
°

the road stays while we move onward 

yet connects from our here to there 
this life's complications on it unwind 

by it we return homeward-bound, trusting: 

a trick we learned from Gretel & Hansel 
assured that it is safe to venture out 

while we move forward, roads stay put

expectation's hope rising, pulsing 
as you bring the warmth and joy 
that only a bright summer day 
presents on a picnic blanket spread 
filled with goodies and laughter 
neatly packed away in a picnic basket 

expectation's hope realising 
as you take my hand in yours 
thru the threshold of our home 
prancing into the breeze and light 
filled with memories and plans 
lovingly packed for a rainy morn 

expectation's hope resuscitating 
as your soothing breath caresses 
taking my longings into belonging 
perfecting inner transformation 
filled with songs and dreams 
movements in blissful harmony

a little cottage of goodies built
along the path to home does sit

don't be allured,  make haste
from distraction,  stay chaste

crown your head with sweet nectar
let candy-lined kisses border

no, it was not very difficult to allow many 
other things & thoughts to fill this gaping void 
where we once together spent our quiet moments 

but these distractions have not my pining assuaged 
the withdrawal of not having you here by me 
is a feeling gnarling at the pit of my gut 

yet I have resolved not to be cast down 
keeping constantly before my eyes your promise 
dreaming beyond paper planes & stubbed-out crayons 

time & space are not sufficient to contain 
that part of me that with you experiences & lives 
so here i lightly tred amid the peat & the moss 

blending what is imagined & what is in fact real 
walking toward the lilting songs of languid streams 
where hope whittles away this overwhelming subterfuge 

i catch a turquoised vision of dancing lights 
proferring a glimpse of that thrilling prospect 
of faith in your returning home in due season true

as the hourglass
shatters
a-
- - - long the endless
shore,

our world spills
unto the infinite cosmos:
it, being but a speck
in greater timeglass-
bounded parameters,

and so on and so forth.

Perhaps
the ride we could've missed
is on its own
a ride within another:
twists its twirling in the mind. 


__✒

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*



_ _ __✒
●○
•

from adverse direness
is revealed a humble key:
in letting go, we are set free!*




●○
°

Feet throb through well worn shoes
after a brisk walk to central station.
We keep our ears plugged with our beats
to finally find seated, at furtherest point;

Backs of heads, napes, and collars
mushroom away, stare blankly ahead -
polarised sunnies paint them bright;
choked only by an assumption of gain.

And all we see is a tiny reflection of we.
Here in our world another day begins:
a mourning of suited, tired paramours;
in this cosmos of peopled isolation.