Thursday, April 21, 2016

trying to become

when the challenge is

not to become

a thing again

fighting within the walls

of a carefully guarded self

trapped within the battle lines

of a war won and lost

this road seems familiar

I’ve walked its rutted trail

my feet they know the path

as if by name

but distance seems to flex

like the hands of a clock spin

and the future stretches out

beyond the scope of my sight

seeing signs along the road

places to pause and rest

forks that will change that path

and lead me astray

those are the paths I know

the ones I’ve walked before

but focus and centered sight

must light my way

darkness falls and skies of grey

the rainclouds and thunderous boom

I’m quite sure no one has melted

in the falling rain

so onward and forward

one foot, then the next

passing roadblocks and signposts

the scenery will change

Monday, January 25, 2016


this Sex,

played out on chequered squares

each knowing their roles

the King,

directing the movement

of every playing piece

the Knight,

one step up and two to the side

dancing in the shape of an L

leaping over the others

and removing them from the game

the Bishop,

flanking the King and Queen

keeping them safe from harm

able to move in any direction

as long as nothing obstructs their path

the Rook(ie),

stands at the Knight’s side

and moves with the rank and file

the only possible obstruction

encountering one of their own

the Pawns,

there have been so many

moving one ‘en passant’

while moving the length of the board

they can become someone else

the Queen,

the most powerful player

no limit to the steps she takes

her absence does not stop the game

but without her, your advantage fails

this Game,

so what is the purpose?

to remove the opposing King

to move each and all in tandem

your strategy prevails

yet what

if the lines on the board erased

and you saw yourself as the other King

would you want your army so predictably

trying to keep you safe~

Tuesday, August 11, 2015


In the end…
Is faith your divining rod
when faith is only relative to experience
Is belief your faith
and by what gauge do you measure its size
Is trust your peace
or have you been broken beyond repair
Is peace a thing
that can ever be achieved
You only consume some portion
of what they tell you
And you only digest 
a smaller portion of that
Nothing truly fills 
or feeds you
And the search for more
becomes that divining rod
Starving you are
yet this is all they surrender
Regurgitated facts
numbers on a page
Pushing the plate back
across the empty table
Rising from your chair 
and walking away
The bitter taste 
lingers on your tongue
While the aching hunger inside
continues to burn
Driving you on 
in search of decadent bliss
Sweet and savory
perhaps even sustenance
Sitting down to the bounty 
of a gourmet table
Licking your lips
as your mouth comes to life
Aching to taste 
the pleasures at the tips of your fingers
Something tangible 
not faith
not belief
you are alive~

~ for my muse ~

Thursday, June 11, 2015

through this day

reaching deep into this quiet

as the day around me screams

listening hard for the sound of you

the breath, the beating heart

feeling distance stretching

long and much too far

the need, the want, the ache

overwhelming me

I know that you are with me

connected through woven webs

yet today I feel trapped

dangling by a thread

I can hear your voice inside me

that musical sing song sound

curling up the side of my neck

calming unsettled nerves

I can feel your touch in my memory

the hard and soft of you

you have carved your name upon me

your absence today I feel

my hands are empty and fumbling

my footsteps waver and quake

unsteady and unbalanced

I am not myself today

close my eyes, deeply breathe

find my way back into you

my body moves with grace and ease

as we become one again



Saturday, January 17, 2015

Lovesick Musings

I feel it like blood

coursing through my veins

Filling me

and bringing me back to life

I feel it like a thing

that I cannot explain

Yet it leaves words

dangling from my tongue

I feel it like breath

as it fills my lungs

Steadily in

and slowly out

I feel it, I feel it

and isn’t that the thing

I feel it

my God, I feel!


It seems that I have loved her forever

though time plays tricks on the mind

I vaguely remember a time before

when emptiness filled this room

She is ever present within me

whether here or miles away

My voice breaks the silence

she hears what I don’t say

The simplicity of all of this

complicates things even more

But still I find solace

surrender, and let myself fall


She makes me ache

in the sweetest way

And conversely

makes me sting


a long dead soul

We are both

alive again


In the soft quiet hours

when she comes

She is ‘becoming’

just like me

No one has ever

seen this, she says

But for me

she reveals everything

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Drunk On Me

gasping breath and exhale

she moans with wanton lust

pulling me aurally

with her along this trail

her voice is like a finger

stretched and curling, calling me

reaching deep inside

as my own fingers trace the path

who is it, deep within you?

tell me who you feel

only you...only you

and then she lets go

both of us deeply rapt

and writhing together as one

as the waves crash upon us

and leave us dripping wet

the moan, the gasp, the squeal, the sigh

over and over again

then slowly panting breath

slows its heaving pace

soft words exchanged

lips tangled as one

smiles and silly words

as heads continue to spin

her speech begins to slur

syllables hard to discern

in the wake of consuming me

she sounds as if she’s drunk

tossing back another

her lips becoming numb

her voice takes on a velvet tone

and she wraps me in her words

soft and warm and floating

her tongue now tickling me

with a dizzying lilt and inflection

she is drunk on me



~for my muse~

Friday, April 4, 2014

it was me

all day yesterday

all that I saw

every time I turned my head

was shadows

moving quickly

at the corners of my eyes

momentarily caught

then gone

at first, I thought it nothing

a simple trick of the light

then as the day wore on

I heard the whispers begin

but then the light changed

that came into my room

and her voice in its musical lilt

filled me full from within

I didn’t tell her  

about the shadow people

about the whispers that rolled

down the back of my neck

I didn’t tell her

I felt a haunting chill

she had chased

the miserable whispers away

she came again that day

with stories and imagination

she challenged me to think

in a way I hadn’t done

we played

like costumed characters at a ball

she took from me innocence

as if it were the very first time

she told me stories of creatures

hiding in the night

on the fringes of her forest

but that she would always keep me safe

still those headless images

kept floating in my stairwell

like the ones I saw as a child

all those years ago

I curled myself into her arms

and left my mark on her

as I chose to choose her forever

and never leave her side

she sent me off to sleep

in the blissful state of dreams

as she had left me spent

completely at her hand

sometime later

I heard her come into my room

banging a gong loudly

announcing her return

I woke strangely and scattered

rattled, unable to think

and everything started to spin

and those heads showed up again

the magician, and his lady

and the rabbit pulled from a hat

have been playing their devilish tricks

since before I knew what they were

the moments passed quickly

and the room began to spin

and I lost my train of thought

replaced by something else

rage came in some thought exposed

and I thought I understood

what I had misinterpreted

for so many years, so long

suddenly a crack

as I heard the door click

she was gone and in silence

those fucking heads danced

I scrambled to grab hold

of the thoughts that spun from me

but there is nothing left in my hand

but that damn magician’s wand

for so many years they haunted

and kept me awake in the night

and I let them leave me terrified

not knowing, they, were me