I was but a boy when I first learnt to read Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass was but a dream I was just a lad when the pages tuned in me and meaning became the precipice of being I was my Father’s son when I first reached the sand and words of pragmatism could be … Continue reading The chosen word
The promontory the valley road look past the sky to wings of steel
In summer-time. from Cold a sniff of air refreshed The warmth retaining
Ajar – the window lets in wind monotonous the sound Welcomed by the latch that breaks with questions that abound I look outside and see the sea tumultuous of form The tide will rise to my surprise before the heavy storm I check the glass - it rattles so - like an empty bottle whistling … Continue reading Unknowing
I stand before the shallow field And whisper to the dawn And see the sunlight burst to life Before the rabid storm The squalling winter’s day precludes The swallow form her nest And drowns the harvest yet to yield And wakens moonlight’s rest It ought not be so (or one might think) - It ought … Continue reading I stand before the shallow field
The ocean was his child He played with while away The sky was an absconder From a royal’s dour day He listened to the 'Helmsman' His wife (one day) - would replace Gravity – sincerity His choice – his saving grace I will endear myself to thee And give honour to the Crown For ever … Continue reading The ocean’s child
Solitude had caught me Willing to bestow Despair and gloom upon me Like a bright lights afterglow She had visited me prior But never quite like this Foisting hands like boxers gloves Requisitioning her kiss She had once spent the night with me And wistfully portrayed A beauty – kindred spirit – (yes) And throughout … Continue reading Forever Land
The road walked I Its name Frustration – A panoply of pain And strolled all day The avenue – Of subterfuge and strain Anxiety drove untoward – The palisade of mourning Wanton disregard sustained Via gambolling and cuckolding The chariot perambulates Pray – blessed with new Beginning A world discovered Unto thee – to lose … Continue reading the road walked I
i suffer from my silence i rejoice in voices heard when asked to speak i vacillate and cannot say a word he tells me do not falter do not wait until your turn it may not come – patience becomes a trait to be unlearned and so in haste i reach to speak … Continue reading chutzpah
love may come to bother and to wallow in the wind yet when one persuades another time travels to rescind is this a new formation of life with nothing in it or a commotion meant to stray if one lets one within it
sensualism 