Poetry

Under a Cheshire Moon

We’re all quite mad here, Under a Cheshire moon. There’s too much confusion, Mind drowning out in tune? – Up too late accomplishing little, Gyrating ‘round the words. Laziness, corporeal madness, Brain splitting into thirds. – Stacked ideas in a deck of cards, You can’t build a house, they say! But arrogantly, I acquiesce, What …

The Cycle

Nothing. The hands move gracefully around the numbered face. Slivers of light break violently into existence. Shapes move in patterns barely recognizable. Sensory input floods the soul. Words form, dreams solidify, passions populate the mind space. Blending. The mind is thrust forth into thought perpetually creating relationships. Clarity follows. Learning, always learning, new ideas combine …

Echoes of November (Originally Published July 2010 in “From the Well House”)

When the dark night falls ashen on the curtails of our dreams, It is with simplified understanding of the haste in which we live. What is this furious passion, quick and object-oriented, Where do we draw the line between the needs of self and obligation to give? In these sighing nights and the moments before …

Bar Stool Damnation

Murmurs rise to levels, screamed. In a room full of untended dreams, The television rattles out useless news. While patrons discuss whom angered whom. Time passes in return, wasted. Clouds shuffle lazily across the sky, Carrying the hope of today away, Engrossed in drink and shallow words. Don’t have time, none at all, pursued. Time …