Pic of the day

Pic of the day
Somehow, she's always the one up here.

Monday, December 1, 2014


What soft heart breaks,
tears asunder, aches;
what weak eyes swell;
what emotions compell
the mind beyond mending
to find it heart-rending -
the death of a pet,
one not even met?
Another's pain to feel -
too soft a heart to heal.
How soft a heart that breaks.
How soft a life it makes.

Monday, October 13, 2014


Sunrise over a city of grime:
the jagged edge of a modern time
breaking the dark of a night-time past.
No new day shall be like the last.
A horizon of razors tears through the sky;
like flakes from a cut, the birds fly
toward their new, unknown day.
The rhythm of survival, their wings play.

Sunrise over a city of dark:
a veil of light covers the stark
truth behind the street-light shadows
where the city's truth grows.
A paint of light to whitewash faces,
corners, curbs and heritage places.
A paint of light to help to pawn
a new born night, noon and dawn.

(Thank you Daisy)

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Lunar rouge

Let tempest rise and lightning fly;
let howling wind come wail and cry.
Torn asunder, clouds have bled:
tonight, the full moon will turn red.

No daylight dares to poke and peek
when nightly lights do dance and streak.
The stars will whirl and swoon instead.
Tonight, the full moon will turn red.

Let spirits roam and phantoms free
to rave the night for all to see
and paint their visions in your head.
Tonight, the full moon will turn red.

Let magic song and words be writ.
Undone be history bit by bit.
Tonight's no night to spend in bed.
Tonight, the full moon will turn red.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Be my

Be my walk along the beach;
the silver moon
out of reach
in whose light a cloud can flow.
Be my stare
out a window.
Be my comfy cup of coffee,
piece of cake
or choco cookie.
Be my time of inspiration,
Be my Sunday morning, lazy,
clear and bright,
soft and hazy.
Be my sunshine when it pours.
You be mine
and I'll be yours.

Thursday, May 22, 2014


No one wins; nobody loses.
The highway of life, one gently cruises
in search of a life. Man knows not where
to look - past strife. That road, the air
holds the very thing
that many a crowned king
have wrestled with themselves
to have and hold. One delves
into the deepest recess,
where the mind denies access
searching for this long-lost truth -
Life's the road less traveled, forsooth.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

A shared cigarette

A window, and I serenade you.
By the hand, I will kiss you.
We'll drink and watch the world smoke by
as clouds turn stars turn inky sky.

I'll talk of worlds within your eyes.
You'll talk of a life. Time flies.
In harmony; we'll feel so right.
We'll spend that one amazing night.

When dawn breaks as dreams do
I'll kiss you still and you'll coo.
At the break of light and sunlight bright,
we'll see our paths in plain sight.

There'll be, perhaps, another day:
some point in time and space. They say
that paths meant to cross, must.
Our crossing was of love and lust.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Swiss head

There's a clock in every head,
a steady diet, to be fed.
Without which,
it turns a bitch,
pops up and goes "cuckoo".

Wound tight and ticking away
through brightest night and darkest day,
this clock will brood
and throw a mood,
spring up and go "cuckoo".

There come times of silence
with chemicals in balance.
Stays calm, the clock
with nary a knock
until it pops and goes "cuckoo".