Untouched by Master’s voice


On the wings of halcyon

she soars

Amorphous memories

Dryer lint of pastel hue

Ill shaped boxes

filled with warm day’s fancy

Bits of lace

torn jagged from passing hem

Cruel token of child forgotten

Punted passed and kicked

from hall to closet

then locked away

Behind block walls

puke green and shit smeared

etched by dirt caked nail

stained with breath wasted



she soars

final flight

bon voyage fuckers

Free of tomorrow

she waits

for armed angels

to lead her down the hall


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Old Boo

Town folk loved the man called Boo         

In spite of all his bumbling                        

He ran a shop in old town square               

Its brick foundation crumbling                   


When one day the banker came

Poor Boo was on a ladder

If fear of heights not bad enough

Collectors made him sadder


Boo looked down upon the man

And scratched his whiskered chin

He knew what brought the man to call

And his head began to spin


“Come down from there” called the man

“There be business to discuss

No payment seen in nigh three months

And that’s way too long for us”


“Land sakes!” cried Boo “Comin down”

“There’s hardly need to holler

You ain’t the only man in town

That needs to make a dollar


With that, old Boo slid his foot

Stepped down to the rung below

He could have dodged that one misstep

But his shaky hands let go


Passersby all stopped and stared

As the man made his descent

No time to warn the man below

Staring down at the cement


Groans were heard among the crowd

Was a wound on old Boo’s head

The old man bruised and dazed a bit

Greedy banker stone cold dead



Daily Prompt:Bumble



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Hello Out There



As most of my readers know, I use this particular site as a depository for my poetry with the occasional story idea or sketch. Over the past year or so, my writing has focused heavily on verse. Life circumstance and state of mind are largely responsible for my heavy concentration on poetry; however, the feedback received from my musings plays a major role as well. For all the good folk that have taken the time to read my work, thank you…thank you…thank you.


I’ve taken a three-month hiatus from my daily routine of WordPress postings and have missed it to a certain degree. But, in retrospect, I feel the break was a good thing. The break has allowed me extra time to: play music, make money and, most importantly, concentrate on a new relationship. Turns out, just when I resigned myself to a solitary existence, I met the love of my life. Damn, go figure.


My return to posting is now a result of the same factors responsible for my absence.  Picking up the guitar after a long dry spell, I’m moved to write songs. As I do, they will be posted. Work is drying up for me now, leaving more time to write (not a bad thing at all). Again, more importantly, my new partner encourages me to write. For this, I consider myself blessed. I suspect all of us cursed with the writing disease can attest to the importance of having a significant other that supports their artistic addiction.  Having lived through years of guilt and depression for not writing, I can now see how my resulting state of mind contributed to the dissolution of my marriage. I withdrew into myself, exploding with pent-up thought and emotion with no way to get it out. I became emotionally closed as a means of coping with the frustration.


Thank goodness for a place like WordPress.  I’ve found it to be the most supportive site for writers in search of artistic outlet, as well as a safe place for collaboration and feedback.  It’s certainly become a kind of support group for me.  In this space I’m neither weird nor alone. I like that feeling.


To any reader of these random thoughts, please forgive my personal bumbling.  I promise to keep such indulgence at a minimum.  I’ve always tried to shy away from the obligatory: “I haven’t posted in a while” speech.  Oops…


Peace, WordPress readers, and thanks to all of you.

Daily Prompt:Bumble

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For D


Raveled in time

you heard my silent scream

Smiling eyes

Argent beacon

tossed as furtive glance  

lapping gently as tranquil shore

Sweet release from siren’s grasp

I shed time’s tethers

in search of your song  


Buried ‘neath sand

you found my labored heart

Healing hands

Doting sutures

crafted as lustrous silk

softly soothe as tropic breeze

Free to rise from wafting sand

I seek the tidal water

in search of your song


Behind the wall

you saw my gentle soul


Love’s elixir

brewed as sacred wine

fused one in equal measure

Versed in love’s strange language

I step from shadow

in search of your song



Daily Prompt: Bury

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Hound dogs baying

low through misty ceiling

Muted hue through tainted glass

wet with drops of yesterday’s lasting

Dried in dawn’s new light


Path once beaten

Grown dense in bladed splendor

Bold as nature’s nymph

Lost to ways once granted


Ring true your song

Sing above the deafening pitch

Drown the failing dawn


Look to the west

Bathed in quiet slumber




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Chapter One


My eyes

Washed new

Absolved of sorrow’s grit


Edged keen as burnished blade

Aglow in heat of ardor’s forge


My lips

Soothed deep

Sponged with mellowed balm


Blushed red as careless rouge

Drunk in dance of rancor’s passing


My arms

Open wide

Released of sorrow’s shackle


Toned firm by exile’s toiling

Trembling for want of embrace


My heart

In sync

Kindled in love’s promise


Sprung free of muted doldrums

Joyous in Solomon’s song




Daily Prompt: Grit


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The Space Between Us

Locked safe in the space between us

a stainless vault of desire

gleaming safehold

walls lined with steel resolve

hope’s fortress

love’s winter haven


A single key

gilded by mettle

worn as pendant

warmed by heaving heart

unlocks the sacred treasures

safe and secure

in the loving space between us



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