Sounds. Voices. Tingling. “I saw a twitch …” “… His eyelids are fluttering …” “How are we doing today Mr. Stavros? You gave us quite a scare, didn’t he Mrs. Stavros?” The young woman addressing him was dressed in a pale blue pajama holding a clipboard with pen poised to note something indicative. Off to the left side of his visual space was an older woman who seemed to stare intently at him. The younger woman was more att...

The ideas are here,but so’s the pain,it’s making me feel rather wan.It’s not a perfect rhyme,but give me time.Why do poems have to rhyme?A poem doesn’t have to rhyme,just as long as it makes the readerspend time.Time is great, but waste it not. Rather, make haste, and buy a yacht.I’ve no idea where I’m going with this,my hands are fucked, my brain is worse.Why the fuck do I have this curse?!Chronic pain, illness, I can’t...

So the handsome Chevalier returnsLeaving a trail of broken hearts in his wakeYet there is one heart he lusts after but cannot haveFor it is under safeguardLock and keepThe fair maiden plays a tough gameLeaving our handsome Chevalier to guess what really lies beneath the surfaceHe has hinted at knowing her true soulYet he will not tell of his findingsFrustration looms between the pairNeither willing to break the silenceAnd...

The coldness stretches out, touching all cornersBare trees, bare everythingThe air is crisp and chilly, seeping in through the gapsYou disappear in the silenceWinter’s arms outstretched around you, trying to drag you inThe bleakness gripping you with icy fingertipsThe days are short and the nights are longThe sky is dark. BlackEndlessAchingLonely days and lonely nightsEverything is gray and desolateAloneBut then you remem...

What will be my fate?Speak! Whoever you might be.So desperately I yearned to fly,But apart my wings you tore.Why do you desire my flesh and blood?Why now must I live?Truly it is better up there…To swim across sky… Answer! Whoever you might be.Tiredness takes rule,To sleepiness my body yields.So many things I had time for,So many things I could have done,But apart my wings you tore.A thousand fires blaze inside my head.A h...

Two months ago I spent 31 days backpacking China. I didn’t write much on my adventure, but here are the poems I wrote on the trains or in the mountains. A Sun Kissed Phoenix From Dali She stood in the aisle, Sun kissed through the windows of the train, Like Zhou Yu’s ghost. She stood as though She wanted my eyes upon her, She smiled as though She knew they were. She looked left and right and back But she wouldn’t look my...

Adderall sunshine lights me upBefore a swift northeastern wind Cools me under black clouds. Aqua stains old poems When Bedouin rain drops Descend upon us from the dune like cumulus. The dust and sweat of China Wash down from the bill of my hat Mixing in with the Georgia red Like some earthy consummation of the love in my heart for both. Cold curtains wrap around me Sending a shiver through me. I was caught up in a poem Wh...

Down the middle are white birds flying against the hard, black sea. They fly past me, almost through me, and thin sun beams follow quickly past. The end of the sky is met with gray ashes that run down the seams keeping the whole scene together. A rumble under my feet reminds me of the continents shaking and growling as they moved into place. Rubber against the deep, asphalt sky rolls and pushes off the wings of the white...

Another day, more work.Tiredness looms around the corner,yet I do my duty. People buzz around,coming and going. Everyone has their own agenda,their own mission. Mine? To write poems. Data entry just fills a dull hole,but stories and poemsfill my soul. I watch as people watch me,unaware that they may featurein a story or poem. The wet and windy day outsidejust serves to inspire me more,though I do wish the wind would shut...

I bought a guitar on Friday. This is no ordinary, straight out-of-the-box, ready to play thing. Nope, it’s knackered. I bought a knackered guitar? Why the buggeration? Well, because I wanted the challenge of fixing it up. It has no electronics, no bridge, no scratch plate and the machine heads are really loose. The neck is in good shape, but the paintwork on the body is shoddy. I plan on upgrading as much as I can and kee...

THE MOUNTAIN I am a mountain. I am massive, and I am immovable. I do not need to move, Because I am fine where I am. I let others walk over me, But it does not hurt me, Because my skin is so tough. Dust blows onto me, and stays for a while. Then it leaves without saying goodbye. But it does not hurt me. For I will always have dust to love. When people climb me, they pierce my skin. But the dirt falls into the spaces, And...

She walks the holly passage of her spring, Her life journey flows by a river upstream, By sprouted meadows of desires and dreams, Oh, Great Spirit, unleash her Soul, Bless her; she is our guardian angel, our whole.

Deceitful sight, we are lost, out of place, Soulful nature, enfolded with beauty and grace, Eyes shut, breath deep… exhale, Change has come, delightful embrace, We are one, nature - Mother Earth.

She walked troubled roads, crosses shattered bridges, Angel’s kisses, dreams of hopes and wishes, As the night falls awakening her Soul, Her journeys’ mysteries ahead yet to be told, She fears no evil, witness as her triumph unfolds.

Her life infinite mystical journey, Intertwined the wise, wicked, a siren's song, She learns of all that is right from making wrong, Where does it start? Where does it end? Not for her mind to comprehend, merely for her Soul to understand.