Sunday, February 18, 2018


Sadness is not a puzzle
To be solved
By slotting each jagged piece
In just the right place
Grabbing all the edge bits
And leaving the vague till last

It is a broken thing
For the making new
A mosaic of jagged pieces
painstakingly placed
By trial and error
Into a picture that
Breathes and stretches
as it gets made

Always resisting the urge
To rebuild what once was broken
These razor edges resist
The anesthesia
Of forgetting their birth

It is standing at the tomb of an old friend
And calling the unknown to rise.

Tuesday, February 06, 2018


She hides her rage well
Down deep
It leaks into the water
Strains into the aquifers
Creeps into the buckets
To spill with heavy wetness
When her moments start to shake

She hides her rage well
Behind questions too big for asking
"Where?! Where!? Why!?"
Snapping in the wind of her mind
Like a tattered flag
Lost on a battle field
Where is the king now?
Why has he been gone so long?

Some things I found in my diary

Sometimes I forget
How to go places with my feet.
Or without them.
Or within them.


To be Samson
And push
On the pillars of injustice.


Monday, January 29, 2018


Like the bleating ram
Fluffed and fattened
Finding its way to an unknown altar
I went to count them
But they
Had slipped away
When I lay down

Sunday, January 14, 2018

Lets the colours
Lets the ink unglued
                          become undone

Tuesday, December 05, 2017


Acceptance is not for the acceptable
What need have they for it?
Where would they keep such a thing?
There is no room in the inn.

No, acceptance is for the unlovely
The tattered and diseased
A gift to those whose pockets have room enough
Because they are so full of empty

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

The Vague

Every time it gets me
Folds me up inside
Creases up my spaces
Until everything tears

Tuesday, November 07, 2017

We who burn to shine and yearn to climb
Bright towers where dragons do not lie in wait
Do not wait do not pause
To take in the sights.
To turn out the lights.
Take out the trash.
Preplan the flights.
What's the rush? Everything!
Stacked like dominoes in a Jenga Box
Poised for tumbling when the music stops

Burn to shine to forget the time
Forget ourselves
For one bright moment
Where we flow like stars
In our own galaxy