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Waiting in the dark horizon and bus are both jack-o-lantern orange
Sun-lit grass glows green a forest crossed by silver shining spiderwebs.
Falling star flies by like a spear it impales the heart of Orion
Waking to a world of grey I gasped to see fire surprised by the sun!
Blown across the ground, Remnant of summer gone by, A butterfly wing.
I wish the morning star could shoot a shaft As sharp as it is bright and pierce me through. I bet that that would take away the pain and cauterize my soul ’til it felt new. And then the world round me would start to clear And looking up I’d enter into light, But … Continue reading
We think we’re unique, but we are just reflections, of ripples, of other lives. Our births and our deaths, are reflections of the lives of those who went before. Looking down to see our faces in the water, we see other faces our parent, our grandparents, and their ancestors. When we despair, we forget … Continue reading
There is no question. The detective of choice of the second decade of the twenty-first century is Sherlock Holmes. He has spawned a couple of successful movies as well as two television shows, BBC’s SHERLOCK and CBS’s ELEMENTARY. So what is the fascination of modern artists with this nineteenth-century detective? And what is my opinion … Continue reading
Red line on the edge of the world, punctuated by the morning star.
Standing on the trapeze, The four sides above void, I must not lose my head, a sham eight card deployed. My form made to appease, Three queens held in my thrall, When the moon shines, too late! Escape and avoid all. An ode to the bones of the hand Key to poem: Trapezium … Continue reading
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