Tuesday, January 29, 2013


 Written for the pub patrons at dversepoets

You seek release from
bondage, subjugation of
cold dark night.
Shaking shoulders, wracked
with grief over a love
that never existed, you cry
aloud, begging warmth and
intimacy to wind around
your forgotten soul.
I see you, your pain rests
on my heart.
I cry tears of sorrow,
your torment almost
too much to bear.
I come to liberate you
from your personal
I take you into my warmth,
cloak you with compassion
surround you with
something new.
Your mind is melded
within the depths of mine.
Our thoughts mingle,
jesting and playfully
prodding laughter out of
a darkened pit
Your voice traps
breath in my throat.
No songbird has sung
with such angelic tones
Your body is a canvas,
artist’s fingers are
Swirling patterns of love
appear as if by magic
on your perfect skin.
Your kiss so sweet
soft and sensuous.
passion rises
with your touch.
My heart beats wildly,
sings rhapsodies of joy.
You discovered love.
My love.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

January 24, 2013

I am writing. I am writing a fair bit. I have published a number of poems on my website this month, and I am proud of each of them. They have been received differently. One of them fell flat, and garnered no response online, and the verbal response was not great. Most people were shocked by the style, the darkness. It was not me, not my usual style of writing. Very true, but as with everything I publish, I like it. I understand that not everybody likes everything, and that's ok. The important thing is that I am writing. So far, 2013 has been very kind to my words and thoughts. And I hope to explore different styles, different themes and different words. It's what keeps it fresh.


Tuesday, January 22, 2013

A Whispered Glance

Posted for #OpenLinkNight at DVersePoets Pub

A whispered glance
that peeks out from your
downcast eyes becomes
a muted greeting.
Your voice is shrouded in silence,
as if the mystery of what you say
is to remain
only a thought.
Sshhh! Don't think aloud;
share what only we
A look into the crystal ball
shows us the past
that doesn't matter,
and a future which
exists in our hopes
and dreams.
Shout from the heights!
Share our joy
with the skeptics and
naysayers. We win!
Love always wins.
I want the world to know
that you and I work.
Our love knows no bounds,
our desires and passions
grow with time.
But we're silent.
The stars allude to us
as their brightness fills
the midnight sky, yet
they refrain from falling
into the hearts of those
who need to hear our
profession of love.
But that glance,
the whispered glance
that brushes over
my heart tells me
everything I need to know.
You love me.
I love you.

Saturday, January 19, 2013


Written from a dark place, on a dark day, from a dark perspective

A blanket of red fills me
covers my eyes, I can't see straight.
My mind is consumed
by the blackest of rage.
I won't listen to reason,
my fury ignites the
passion in my voice.
I regret my words.
You're hurt by my
lack of control.
I'm aware of your tears.
It makes no difference.
There is no stopping
as the level of my ire
rises. I can't stop.
The devil lives in me
and is winning.
Stop! Don't speak!
You'll only make it
hurt more.
Your words, meant to heal
only cause more pain.
Stay away! Leave me alone!
I am not open to reason
I won't barter.
My  wrath knows
no bounds.
I'm wrong, so very
Forgive me, my love
Help me! I need to be
released from the
bondage of my
Hold me!
Stop me from lashing out.
Bind my arms so they
can't reach out
with malice.
Help! Don't give up.
I'm coming back
from that dark place
that exists
Forgive me.
Love me.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

97 Years

Written for Dversepoets and the prompt given by Stuart McPherson with the theme of ‘Growing Up’

 97 years of memories
fail to yield a single thought.
Only the albums of history
tell the tale of a man
who has seen it all.
From wars that stopped
the forces of evil
to the rose colored blush
of the woman he loved,
colorful pictures exist.
He doesn’t recall
the friends of his youth,
but the picture of boyhood
in black & white hues
reveals a simple happiness.
the faces of his parents
are whispers in the darkened
eyes of his mind.
They are long gone, but
their effect on him
shows in how he lived
his life.
Strong and proud
he grew from boy
to man under his
own terms.
Life’s harsh reality
became mere bumps
in the road to
97 years.
A lifetime of
memories are gone
from a man who
always remained
a boy.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Pub Night

This is quite possibly the strangest piece I have ever written. It's inspiration comes from listening the music of Tom Waits.

But don't tell him that...

 This tattered old barstool is home
to the back end of this tired poet.
Surrounded by whiskey voices and cigarette singers
every day is thanksgiving as I enjoy
some wild turkey.
Oh, I'm happy enough to chat with you,
but if I had my druthers, I'd stay far away
from your breath that will strip paint or
make me gravely ill with the second hand
exhalation of carcinogens.
The bartender wanders over and gives me
a look that says I've had enough.
I tap the counter with two fingers, typing
out my order in staccato
        it a
An impatient lapse of time between
empty and full, a glance around the room
reveals a cloud of smoke harboring
the secrets being hidden by the drinkers.
The green felt on the pool table runs into
pockets which hold no balls.
The vending machines sell smokes
and protection against the nights that see
too much booze get consumed.
The jukebox is lit up like a Christmas tree,
but its voice is not heard. Instead,
a raven haired angel plays the spatula
against the strings of a pink
Fender Stratocaster
And the mirror behind the bar
reflects an old poet whose
words start to get slurred.
Stop the terrible music,
there's poetry to be read.
For this poet will write, even through
the haze of pollution and the
caterwauling of a bad singer.
That's the goal for this night at
the pub. To pen some thoughts,
and find the muse at the bottom
of a dirty glass.
Leave me alone,
you drinkers, players and
gravelly voiced singers.
The words are flowing faster
than the bottle is emptying.
Yep, this old barstool is
The words that are written
inspire more...and conspire with
that wily old turkey to keep me going
for the rest of the year.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

January 6, 2013

If my writing was judged solely by the quantity of pieces I publish on my website, I would stand before a very harsh verdict. Oh, I could stand before the judges and sputter on about the process of writing, and how I go about coming up with something I am proud of. But it would do no good as judgements can be made without the information that really helps. The truth of the matter is that I do not write quantity nor quality every day. There are even days when I write nothing at all. But I am constantly writing in my head, my mind buzzes along at 102 Kph and is always on the lookout for that next glimpse of inspiration. Sometimes I see it, sometimes I don't. One thing I am learning is not to panic. The words will get written. So don't judge on what you think you know. Judge solely on the product that I choose to share. Otherwise, grab your own pen and write.

I didn't think so.


Tuesday, January 1, 2013

January 1, 2013

I don't make New Years resolutions. I have in the past, and I've rarely kept them. And so I don't feel the need to promise myself something when I am quite sure I will break said vow. Nope, no resolutions here. However, I do make some plans, mostly based around achievable improvements. And this year is no different. There are a few things (ok, lots of things) that I want to improve on. In no particular order, here are some of them: I want to be a better husband, a better dad, a better Christian and a better writer. All of these are very achievable, and the nice thing is that even if I succeed in improving on these things, there will be even more room for improvement. Thus my plans for next year can follow the same pattern. No, I don't believe this a cop out. I strongly feel that these are some areas for improvement. And so, I will work hard at improving on them in this, a brand new year. No resolutions, just plans.

Happy new year.