Poem: Done

A line in the sand


a boundary


looking to the other side

with preservation as a comrade

and inner peace

as the victory cry


Poem: Sleep Sweet

I love to climb upon my bed and sleep

and place my head upon my pillow deep

My body caught in one place all night

while my crazy thoughts soar off in flight

It’s the place I leave my morbid doubts

and also the endless brain bending shouts

They’re left in a far away place

and are replaced with open space

The space is filled with trips and tales

anything goes that side of the veil

And oh the places that I do go

some I recognize, some I don’t know

But the ones where I have already been

I often end up visiting long dead kin

And passing back through clicks of time

can give moments of the lost sublime

Because mistakes passed by twice

this time can turn out quite nice

And now with the Autumn chill

snuggling under the covers deeper still

Living the the land of dreams

is sometimes better than life it seems

So let me sleep long and sweet

and all those I’ve ever loved this evening meet


Poem: Upward

I transcend

breathing soft air

and ascend behind flashing eyelids

free now

from egos gravitational lure

Climbing over yesterdays clutter

a wraith rising

through the worldly walls

to wander upon higher plains


drifting in dark spirals of space

tiny bits of astral dust


away away

I shine and hover

as humming of the cosmos

levitates me till

the end of time


Poem: Momentarily

Wind touches my face

Sun gently pushes my back

Sadness seeps away


Note: To rid ourselves of today’s sadness we must seek a moment here and there: in nature, with family and friends, with animals, within transcendence, inside ourselves, creating, in silence…however. Blessed be.

Poem: Shot & Other Sadness Thoughts

They are gone

yet we tread on

dead-eyed zombies

feasting upon what they left behind

Their flickering ghosts

flash upon screens

and disappearing voices

echo to screams

yet we watch


their dying dreams


I was handed my sadness like a suitcase when they pushed me out the door so long ago. It has been with me since then; something I hold near me as a reminder of the pain. But it is also a gift. A beacon to see pain in all other things. I carry that with me too. So this is why I will never truly feel at peace–not fully. Only tiny bits, at moments here and there. Because what I am meant to carry is a story of sorrow. And this sorrow gathers sadness and pain within it and to hide in the crevices, unreachable, forever.


Poem: Four Chambers


painted on a four chambered heart

each room an echo

a synchronized sharing of the apex

The fluttering climax

upon squeezing beats seeing beauty

And the hiccupping hitch

when gathering moments of newly formed love

Or the sudden thud

of rock dropping grief when its gone


Oh the silent tap tap

when at peace

hand upon your breast


that what you feel

is the artist

who paints your life


Little Thoughts


When thoughts start to clutter my mind now, especially ones that take me away from the present, this is my new mantra:

I am here now; I am alive; I am healthy; I am grateful.


“Extended bliss is boredom of the existential kind.” from the book NutShell  By Ian McEwan.