Sitting here and feeling my mind slipping back to one summer’s afternoon when I had found a box, and went to be told the stories behind the photos found in that box. Having asked if all was like in all the old war movies, and I was told to sit down, so that I could be filled in on some of the stories behind those old black and white photos. Where to begin? Was what was then asked and I was told that these black and white...

It seems to me as I sit here that with every waking breath that’s been taken; I see some of what life has dealt to me from what seems to be a stacked deck. And with every sadness I deny, I feel a chance inside of me die. Wondering if I will ever be given a taste of something new, and be able to touch and hold something to see me through. Like I have been looking for a breath of life, with the slim possibility of finding a...

Miles away under these black skies a light can be seen burning through this darkness that fell at noon; darkness that fell as the lamp of laughter died when the lies of the Blind Organizer and Jealous Monk were seen through. And it's a darkness that eclipses both the sun and the moon leaving no reflections except that light in the distance burning like a torch.And as I shoulder my pack to make my way down the line where i...

Emerging onto yet another version of October street, passing through those faint mists of the oncoming night where shadows are, as I see a girl who has been gone for roughly a decade or more who now looks fresh from creation. And slowly remembering the obvious of it being a new century and this being someone I will never speak with, and finding myself giving a bow or nod of my head as a subtle show or sign of honour to th...

When we two partedIn silence and tearsHalf broken-hearted, to severOh dear!! That’s Byron (I say)The words are not mineIt sounded so goodI thought it inspired Now I’m depressedI need something newNot something I studiedWay back in school Let’s try it againBreathe deep and stay calmLet your mind work its magicImagination, come on Calling EratoOh Muse, are you there?Help me create nowSam’s dome in air That sunniest domeThos...

It's always present, just under the surface, clawing and scratching, this sadness within It can come at any time, whether rain or shine, a voice never silenced, this sadness of mine It pushes people away, those I care for most, feeding on the carnage, this sadness in me Born from past heartaches, fed by current failures, it's grip is so strong, this sadness within

Standing here on the side of the road in the heat under blue skies, as I find myself looking down the road that seems to run forever as it stretches to the horizon. And feeling a hot wind on my shoulder blowing from what seems to be a land that’s much older, and has me feeling as though I am a receiver of a wavelength that’s traveling far from home, and flowing like a river towards distant shores as it heads out to sea.An...

Auditions came and wentYou finally got a part.Now make the most of it.Small role, but it's a start. Though others think it's work,Rehearsals are great fun.You see them as free lessons,Since learning's never done. Experience with living,The time you spent in choir,The dancing classes taken,They grew your repertoire. The artists that you meet, Competing for choice parts,This family you joined,The stage has won their hearts....

When Charlotte Salomon strode off this stageShe left behind her art that scribed her grief. Each gouache painting really was a page;A side that she had read in disbelief. Discovering that dear ones self-destroyed,It was her burden to accept this truth.Confronting all of this, she still employedHer mind and skill to paint her short-lived youth. Auditions are not always held, it's true.You may be simply cast to play your pa...

Call it being clever, call it skill or call it wit – he had a way of picking words that always seemed to fit. He started writing stories, then progressed to rhyme and verse with words that sparked emotion – some for better, some for worse. Declared a ‘natural poet’, since he had no dossier – his writing lacked the polish that a scholar might portray. He had no formal training, used his own inherent style to capture tragic...

The winding vines tighten around the heart fluttering, bird-like and fit to burst. Heady hours flicker like Kodachrome through the projector in my head. Over and over the film slides, sticking on those little moments, shared smiles, discreet glances, the ponderings of a mad man over the weight of the mug, the value of words, and a warm touch. Intricacies burn holes into my mind the color of your eyes, the chilling space i...

Victory never seemed to be mine to have, and it always seemed to belong, and come to other men. It felt at times that my feats always had no history recording pen, and never happened. My years were spent like fool’s gold, feeling like they were my last. I also broke my back on the bottom’s rack with nothing left to boast, and instead wasted my years. Being much like on a ship I sailed lost out in the fog, a far distance f...

Special flowers nearAlways sharing their treasureAllow them to growCaressing gentlyWith steady hands strong and sureTender regret sighs Body feels no painJust the sorrow at the endFragrant blooms closing Darkness descendingShadows becoming longerStill no fear of deathDuty was foremostHonor was never ignoredSinging out ones joy Take a final bowSay farewell to steadfast friendsSun sinking swiftly

On nights like these,alone with only my thoughts,my past returnsI can barely keep the voices at bay,they will not be silenced,nor will they tolerate being ignored A dozen voices whispering in the night,in an unending unison of judgement,"you cannot be loved"So many chances,and an equal number of failures,the result always seems the sameEither by careless inaction,mistakes that cannot be undone,or wrong decisions made from...

Tree. Oak tree.Strong but gentle. Holding the young vibrant songsters in the spring. Alone in the valley.A valley filled with lupine blooms.Where we once shared a life.It could have been paradise on earth. It was.Long ago.When I was young.Young and innocent.And vibrant. Sitting beneath that tree.When it was a younger tree. But never as young as me. And never as young as she. Valley wide and passion deep.Tender blossoms bl...