Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Footprints rough the road ahead
Each crater cut to my measure
Back from finding another nothing in the wilderness

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Sadness' sleepless measured tread
Musts a run to stay ahead
Wandering feet on wearied legs
Heavy hearted hooded head
Only movement keeps me dead.
Live whatever you will say
Together we will pay
Being free is so expensive
If the time is running dry
And days are running by
I'll tell you all my wildest plans. If
Truth be told and lies be sung
And all is just begun
The ending's not a thing to not give.

Inchoate

So full of half-filled shapes
Fit to bursting with inchoate
Longing for a moon
That is no moon
Just a harbour-thin reflection
On a rippled dinner plate
I could
Sew these ragged dreams to riches
But such half-spun mists
Hang much too soft
To carry all my future-weight.