Thirty days and thirty nightscan never be enoughto get over you. The light you broughtinto my life is nowa distant memory. Every time I close my eyesI envision the happinessI thought I brought you. You disappeared into the coldwinter night, leaving meto the unforgiving wilderness. Abandoned by you, I try to livefighting my demons andblack, ...

a bowl of cereal, and  a slice of cinnamon toast I watch morning blackbirds perch on fence posts  our streetlamp posts  are receiving new globes down the village road there is the historic  community Post Office  where my daily poetry posts are again, free to roam. to every remote outpost  I am no longer a frozen igloo host or a nomadic poet  meandering in slow motion around ...

Am I part of your world?I must be dreaming. Am I worthy of your touch?Here you are, holding mewithin the palm of your hand. Only you can save me,Oh, angel of darknessand sinful passion. You are my savior,as you are theend of me. I am the Juliet to Romeo,the Persephone to Hades,the light to your ...

Hello, Mister Moon Have you enough time? To drop by And fill my empty spoon With memories and rhymes  I am feeling tired and bland My quill needs a helping hand The poet’s barren ink well Is requesting a magic spell.  Dear Mister Moon Have you enough time? To drop by And light up my room With a dream-time pantomime 

Prayers rising, wishes spreadingHands laboring, legs toilingIn this realm, all struggle to thriveRising up before the sunAnd laying down long after the moon has taken her place. It leaves a gravel taste in our mouthsOnce we eat the bread of sorrowbut holds down our bellies with satisfactionThe process becomes an infinite loopUntil we sojourn to ...

Life is not createdwithin cookie-cutterboundaries. There is no  clear-cut way toeternal happiness. For I am only humanundefined by a categoryor any identity. I am more than a name,religion, or race.I am me. You call me weak,when I’m empoweredby inner strength. You say I’m stupidwhen I know andrecognize my weaknesses. You call me sensitivewhen I’m not stonefacedor ...

My ancient limbs are wearyTimewornFrom trying to walk on waterBut I am able enoughTo leave a footprint in the sandBefore the tide returns again I am not deaf or blindMy eyes can hear the soundOf a merciless warShredding families apartThe nation’s folks areCrying rivers of tearsWhich are spirituallyFlooding their sacred towns

I was a lonely lavender bushWith a pretty fairy-wing flowerNow!I am a rotting piece of deadwood. Last summerMy minder went on a holidayAnd left my hanging-basket homeIt was left to dry up and crumble. After!He dug out my dying rootsAnd tried to resurrect meBeyond redemptionI did not arise again. Now!In my wrinkled nakednessHe ashamedly hides ...

Autumn is approaching, which means Halloween is lurking Chilly nights call for glowing fireplaces, creating illumination for spooky stories Colorful leaves begin to fall, revealing innumerable bony branches Fall’s vibrant beauty bestows, yet undertones of mystery arise Darkness comes sooner, providing a shroud for the undead

 The leaves Azure and emerald Mother Nature’s Tear droplets of joy Daintily dangle Above sacred ground And faithfully Await baptism By cascading sunshine Thereafter The anointed leaves Eternally replenish Mother Nature’s  Earthly goblet With liquid hues Of azure and emerald