Category Archives: Poems

She had been found by an army rescue team. She was wandering in the ruins of her village after the great storm and waves. She was brusied and tired. She wore a torn shirt and a pair of shorts and … Continue reading →

If heaven is just a hope, life is glorious but a hoax, a tease, a blink. But a life of love and laughter and, yes, trial and tears is layered thick with yet undiscovered meanings if its faith is fulfilled … Continue reading →

I’m reluctant to visit the old neighborhood. Not for my tears shed for those I could no longer find, but for the sorrow I’d feel for those I would. Now, all are perfect. Photos, fast set, in memory, beautiful in … Continue reading →

Ruth, with her husband Robert, were sponcers at the youth center in my childhoods neighborhood. She, the young mother of my first girlfriend… we were all just beginners, really. But her daughter was a purposefull kisser with black, silken hair. … Continue reading →

Madalyn was the first, (and you all know, instantly, by instinct, of what I speak). I was 25 and way over due. She was 24 and knew what to do. That late night loving is lovely, still, even through all … Continue reading →

I watched a movie, decades back about the Little Boy Emperor of Manchuria whose bowel movements, left in a golden bowl, were a matter of emperial concern. His eunuch servant sniffed the little boys droppings and diagnosed: “More meat! His … Continue reading →

This day dawns to doom as did yesterday and its yesterday and its yesterday. Each days morning morphs to mourning as each birth ends in tomb. Why, then, glory at sunrise, that fickle surprise? Why praise the light when all … Continue reading →

After nine months becoming, the fullness of time is upon me. I am pushed by a power somewhere within. I feel the pressure. I ride the wave. I gather my courage, open the door, walk on through. After five years … Continue reading →

Beseaching god to send the spirit from way out there, somewhere, to here is praying the wrong prayer! The Spirit pounds on the inside of our ribs, calling to be outside its cage, free to do its work, blowing where … Continue reading →

Be ye not leary of lust. Lust is loves kindling. See two compainonable logs, split so to rest together in the fire place, nursing simmering embers, needing only a toss of shavings and twigs to ignite the flames again. Be … Continue reading →