In the vast fabric of space
where the stars are diamonds of the universe,
life and death are represented in a greater scale
within the great devourer and a new planet's birth.

One, very dark and foreboding,
so powerful with its mighty pull
that all that comes within its reach
will be reduced to a minuscule.

The other is the beginning
of a new life's chapter,
woven by the hands of fate,
with the will of the Creator

Joey was a private eye.
His gun was black as coal
and everywhere that Joey went
the gun would seek a soul.

He dropped a man the other day.
He does this quite a lot.
Just self defense was all he’d say
while stuffing graveyard plots.

Couldn’t help himself he’d say
and then another one,
but he was savvy, Joey’s way
and he’ll be never done.

knee deep of night
the cold white brilliant fire
the pools from the poles
watches flakes drip spiral

the bottle warmth in the
hollow of the soul
climbing its chorus

the wind is picking up
hissing on the tall screens
rattling the last of the leaves
as I watch the evening planes
arrive over the lake...landing
lights mesmerizing like stars
beneath the weather

the fridge is empty
a flat of old muffins
in the flourescent
the television chatter

A season in the southern land

I sense the winter air is drawing south,
and from that great colossus north a land
that's baked in clay and cracked at rivers mouth,
is blowing warmth in kisses out of hand

To heal our thawing heartland, clinging on
to glacial teardrops off the continent-
We need it now, like birds: a calling season,
pure reason to migrate our dulling sense

All Hallows Eve

Waxing Gibbous moon is bright
on this cool October night
making shadows in the trees
with the help of autumn’s breeze

strolling down a country lane
passing harvests on the wane
pumpkins huddled in a field
wait their turn to be revealed

VIGNETTES

The last years I spent with you
seem a thousand light years away.
I see you still in small vignettes
that strike with a sudden melancholy:
a desperate, deep longing to replay
those days that Time has betrayed.
I don't see myself as I did before;
something of me went with you
and to this world lost I came.

The taxi seem to float
gently above licorice streets,
shimmering with last morns
rain still wet on the lips

The signs seemed forboding
declaring a destination,
almost attained and almost
enough to turn heads awry
leading into a long goodnight

Anticipation rode
anxiety to gnaw an aside,
though outside all was still
a Michelangelic statue
in a blink and a stare

In a thousand seconds
fear turned a coward
into a brave night,
the unknown awaited
but so would regret

I often dream

of being a poet
on daily stream
but they remove the essence
from my poetic cream
say hold one only
not anymore
no one knows how many read you
for sure

the guys up there can't afford the fare
but Loved you may continue
to dream of some day
one day
of becoming a poet

only hope the stalwarts gleam
at your pages whilst you dream
and in your dream
don't ever scream