Hidey Hole

We are all looking for our own paradise:

  • Heaven
  • Money
  • Love
  • Success 
  • Beauty 
  • Fame
  • Security 
  • Happiness 

    Maybe though, it’s really just hidden away in some hidey hole within us. 

    Maybe paradise is very small and very quiet. 

    Maybe we’ve been carrying it the whole time.

    And maybe it’s time to whisper hello to it so it can creep out and whisper back. 

    Poem: Fed


    Oh cratered heart

    holy like Mother Teresa

    and Swiss cheese


    Eaten by disappointment

    from the moment of conception

    birthed into the recycling bin

    to be repurposed into  something more useful


    It becomes a hardened pit

    squeezed tight with shuttered angst

    surrounded by a sea of tears

    whose salt will season the pain


    And when the tides subside

    and pull away from the gritty sands

    it leaves behind a moist wet world

    fed by a juicy beating heart


    Poem: Keep On Walking


    Keep walking on

    into the fretful night

    where strangers surround your empty mind

    maybe they fill that hollow hole

    as your hobo self lurches forward

    Keep walking

    even after you’ve fallen

    with your bruised knees

    from the crawling you’ve done

    to keep you low to the ground

    But keep on walking

    even though the horizon looks flat

    because of the secrets it holds

    it may bend to your will

    as you approach

    Keep on walking

    with those weary old feet

    which have carried you far

    Keep walking

    Keep walking

    it won’t be long now




    Poem: The Wanting 

    Let go of the wanting 

    and see where it leads

    down dust blown highways

    where cactus men point 

    and sun burned grasses

    to wave scorching goodbyes

    The wanting is feral

    a scavenger dog

    sniffing out treasures

    meaty and ripe

    It creeps through the cracks 

    and appears in the night 

    lapping up moments 

    chewing on greed

    Take a hold of the wanting 

    by the nape of the neck

    smooth out its fur

    give feed to her fury

    And let go of the wanting 

    to run off

    somewhere among 

    the tangled 

    wild wood of your life