Philosopher, Reborn

A fly in the library, Gorges itself with ancient wisdom, And dies within the day.

Staring at the Cut

I stared at the bloody cut between my body and soul -It is not a physical sort of pain,This doomed wound,It is the absence of being, the gap between, a hole,Wound soundly around,The very concept of what makes you whole. Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, “Wound” as part of their Quadrille … Continue reading Staring at the Cut →

A Lighthouse Beam

Shimmering like a lighthouse beam, My voice goes out to you at sea, To say there's no safe haven here, Beware the rocks, stay safe and clear, Pass on in the calm of the night, Or in the storm take heed my light, Don't thank me, just do as you do, I do this, because … Continue reading A Lighthouse Beam →

Le Petite Princess

She reminded me of the night sky. Maybe it was the sheer blondeness of her hair, which - when tied to those restless eyes and pale complexion - made me wonder if moonlight looked like this when She wanted to wander where the shadows were. Suddenly, I knew why foxes only danced under the Moon's … Continue reading Le Petite Princess →

Luna Wept

Luna wept to behold her visage,Upon the inner lakeshore of Skye,And on the precipice of the rocky crags,Her tears ran like vinegar light,Rivulets of her loneliness dissipating, Smelling of burnt sap and children's sighs,While I found myself growing old,Drowning in her long lost love.

A flowery scent

Along the coastline,A broken-hearted lover,Blooms with eau de salt. A flowery scent,Carried by a hot Spring breeze,Mingles tears with hope. In the midland towns,With opened windows released,Hidden flowers bloom. A lonely fool sighs,Drearily glances outside,Sniffs, whispers "Lilies." The breeze dies, winds cool,The scent lingers on moonlight,Recalled in sad dreams.

From the Midlands to the City

Outside my window,The thrush tweets in the warm air,A song I wish you could hear. I stopped to listen,The city noises ring loud,But I hear you, still, singing.

The Vacuous Sigh

I took a sip of hemlock today, So that I might die a philosopher, Imparting upon the world wisdom, Or, the very least, a pithy remark, But as the dark shroud fell over me, No terrible truths fell from my pale lips, Just the vacuous sigh, "Oh, I see," As oblivion stole my breathe away.

An Unearned Repreive

Please, grant me some rest, I cannot think anymore, I want sleep, maybe to dream. My poor, dear poet, the wicked earn no reprieve, now get back to work, my love.

Words shared with smiles

Cut flowers must wilt,To remind you beauty fades,While feelings do not. Letters penned with love,The simple beauty of words,Like children's laughter. One cookie is fine,But savor it, take your time,Make a memory.