Tin-Horn Tale
A mysterious Scotsman joins the crew.
Haiku- Village Life
Been awhile since I have done a Haiku hope I got it right???? Pic is my scene from back yard of sunset....
The Return of Isis the godiess of love And The WoF
with my wings of fire i will expand my sacred heart of love across all the lands protecting my brothers of high command for i am pure the devoted one and with these hands i shall mend with the blessing form heaven above nothing shall stand in my wa
Toys of the Mind
Toys of the mind we create for ourselves With pink ribbons and glitter and kept on a shelf On any given day we'll unwrap one or two Pop open a box-any one will do Today it's the black box and out jumps the hate With green ey
A Sermon From The Mount
Contemplating life one night while riding nightherd.
Man
I was born from the dust of the earth yet I taste the breath of eternity Call me what you will, but a God would call me blessed I am nothing one might say until my worth has been assigned by principalities from beyond this realm Yet this rev
Life (time)
Look at our birth - does it ever seem a curse? Or a miracle that happens - nothing more? Does our time go on endlessly - or worse? Or does full life time break us like a whore? All that I hope, - is we should find some peace - All that I hope,
Sandals on the sand
A portrait in words, describing the atmospheric-air at the seaside
a flash before your eyes
I suppose many of us must buckle down with this most dangerous weather event before us. it will have become devastating and deadly for so many....
The Final Hour
On a notion of fear the end of the line is near opening of the gates of hell on a starless night for let it be written, when the clock strikes 12 the reaper well ring the bell ,one final spin the river of poisons cease to exists, the windows close w
"You Know a Hurricane's Comin!"
I'm not one to write much about 'Sensual Passion', but I thought I'd try my hand at it while writing an original poem for a friend of mine that carries the same name as a recent hurricane here in the U.S.
liberi
may our footfalls carry us tandem friends ever fenced only by beginning and end green fields of forever lie before us and we are a great sythe never to reach an end to our thrashing, thus never to die though be of deep golden grain or lush valley
The Second Book Of Job Revisited
An accident on the rimrock.
WORLD BANK BLUES (ALLEN GINSBERG)
World Bank Blues is one of the latest poems written by Ginsberg before his death.
My poetry
Random thoughts?
Footprints Frozen in Time
Whose were more important mine or the oldest recorded footprints ever? Well, I don't really think mine will be around quite so long...but they looked cool anyway. :))
Green-Eyed Monsters
For all of those poor suffering souls with such chronic bouts of "invidia" I assail you to find this cure. Peace, Love, and Tranquility.
Hypocrite
I admire people who live and let live, but have little use for those who would run you down under a guise of deception.
Not Tonight but Tomorrow (1978)
I came across this poem last night, and it captivated me with the phrasing and usage of his words.
Waiting On Sundown
A young man helps a friend escape an abusive relationship.
Tides of Love
It is fun to take something we love like the ocean and turn it into so much more with just the mere wording. Thank you for accompying me on my beach trip
Willow
The evening sun sets the sky ablaze. It peeks between the trees and speckles the ground with shifting patches of orange light. The forest ebbs and flows with the swaying of the trees. Bluejay swims in with a cool gust, searching for a place to re
POSIBLE PATHS
For all the days that have past I find the thoughts of my own future Turning back, my inner minds eye Watching the paths of possibility never taken I see a turn that was once lost in time behind me, I remember with sad fondness Of the days
2015 Hope
To many spirits dwelling in The shadows of gloom.. With no vision the people Perish Hope rides a firey chariot And the faint of heart may Cringe at the sight of those Mighty horses engulfed in Clouds divine The still small voice that Whis
The Rules of Keeping Time
Whose time is it anyway? It's your life isn't it?
Fake II
Fake II
the constant swimmer
it took forever to my find my forever a metaphorical mooring by sea it was a tougher search to find her and if you’d ask her I’m sure she’d agree the beach is a natural kilometre I trusted the distance by guile we planned our dream house
The lil box
Come my friend..walk with me I know the sun is hot and the day is long The nights are cold and lonely, and the road seems much to long You go into the city to feast upon its delights, and once you've had your fill you come away empty Whe
BAGWELLS GROVE
THE OLD BAGWELL ESTATE, IS SITUATED JUST OUTSIDE THE TOWN OF CLONMEL, COUNTY TIPPERARY, IN IRELAND. THE FAMILY WERE CROMWELLIAN SETTLERS IN IRELAND, AND WERE BANKERS, BY TRADE. THEY ARE LONG GONE NOW, BUT THE OLD ESTATE STILL RETAINS AN AURA, OF FADED ELIQUENCE, I STROLLED AROUND ITS OLD GARDEN WALK LATELY, TRACES OF ITS FORMER GRANDEUR, ARE STILL TO BE FOUND.
The Shouting Tree
Composed today for the opening of the last two chapters of "Traveler" the third book of my "Chalice" Grail Romance series. This poem references an autobiographical work I have already completed and which is available for Kindle already. That work is told in the 3rd person, as if I were speaking of someone else's life because, in truth, it no longer feels like "my story" or "my life". It also ties into the fantasy series of which "Traveler" is the third. With a lot of help from dear friends, the first book of that series, "Chalice" should also soon be available for kindle. I'd appreciate feedback on what you get out of this poem: What message and what feelings. Thanks very much ahead of time for your help and feedback.
Your Title Goes Here
Colorless world of gray and white timeless days one into another hands at side not moving just there laying growing inside festering to be flame refusing to be distinguished beating drum on auto pilot clinging vines clasping to branches knuckl
An Impermanent Affair
This bag of bones This flesh & blood Concept birthed a picket fence Hear the sound Sight the found O’er a rainbow by way of ground Where did it come from? Where did it go? From a place the lost do moan Find me a miracle Find me a
The back side of my mind
In regions of nebulous hues I store old thoughts with worn out shoes.. Somewhere within, without, and around the world, a thought is captured to be later unfurled.. It is not for me to judge the time It lies with you to seek the sign I bend t
HILL CLIMBER
CAMPED OUT IN THE BEAUTIFUL VERDANT, NIRE VALLEY, IN COUNTY WATERFORD, NEAR DAWN, IM ALWAYS RESTLESS BEFORE A CLIMB, ONLY A HILL CLIMBER, CAN FEEL THE BUZZ, BEFORE AN ASSENT, IT PUTS BARBED WIRE IN YOUR EYES, AND FIRE IN YOUR BLOOD.
THE GREAT ETHEREAL CONVERSATION
A companion piece to 'the great silence of Earth'... it speaks of the 'mirror' world that the ethereal world of our dreams represents, where people talk for real, never abandon you, never are ignorant to you, and is our own personal paradise... and how, as one becomes older, the dreams become more alluring than the physical world, until, eventually, we choose not to return from the dreamscape world...
Eclipse of the Heart
I watched as the sun set tonight. It reached a point where it seemed that day time wanted to hold night time. Night time removed all the shadows and day time seized to be. Tomorrow the queen will rise once more to claim the day time as hers. It will be the moon who will then bow to the sun and the circle of life will continue.
Portals of Time
Reflecting on what a "day" is...metaphorically of course.....in a sonnet for just the fun of it....why else?
Grow Into The Person You Are
Life either wears you down or polishes you up, depends what you are made of. (old appalachian saying)
Time
Time moves around us...we are always in now
No Sound
As I lay here alone, in the silence of darkness’ digital age, sans the ticking of the clock to mark the passage of time, I am engulfed by thoughts of you. It was only yesterday (or was it the day before?) that you came into my life unexp
Light From the Darkest Star
This sonnet is a metaphor for 'truth'.
Embers
Metaphors for love