Category: My Work
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A Cautionary Tale
A Cautionary Tale Swatting the empty air before me, Just another wandering soul Nursing his tremens. I’m plagued by a feverish imagination Beset by angry bees. I have just enough knowledge to be dangerous And do some considerable damage If I am released. Add to that a passing infatuation with words And this becomes a…
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Apostasy
Apostasy I am willing to admit there is something That allows me to rise above These feet of clay. (this confession comes at a cost you cannot imagine) Yet it still shocks, even me, When something takes hold of my hand And guides it to write a line That may just be sublime, That may…
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Coulda-Shoulda
Coulda-Shoulda Playing my “air“ chanter, I find I am roughly three notes behind And have left out most of the doublings. Now I only play the BIG notes And those with some imprecision. Those pesky eighths, sixteenths and thirty-secondths (?) Black flies darting all over the page, Skipping ftom bar to bar. I didn’t have…
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Focus
Focus This scribbling is designed to Strengthen my mental muscle, Whip it into shape To regain what has been lost. Too long has it lain idle Gathering useless dust While feeding on past glories. But here, the opportunity presents itself To begin once again Thinking linear thoughts in logical progression Rather than scattergun blasts of…
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Lucy & Her Diamonds
Lucy & Her Diamonds Why do I persist? I seem inept at all the other Trades or endeavours known to man. So, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake, I do what I am best suited for: Become a “Wordsmith” of a sort, A very loosely defined sort, Apprenticed to a master I can…
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I Know The Way
I Know The Way. Time, age, infirmity: They seem to be conspiring All these arrows in the quiver of my enemy, To bind me and to blind me And to limit my options, To temper my whims And rein in my wayward nature. And so, I live a life that is subterranean, Mostly hidden from…
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What Do I Miss?
What Do I Miss? I miss the touch of another’s skin. I miss the sound of another’s voice. I miss the comfort of one by my side. I miss the thrill of having an audience. I miss the sound of laughter. I miss the trail of tears on a cheek. I miss the sight of…
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Lotus Eater
Lotus Eater Looking at my work, I see The indelible hand of Dylan Thomas. My pardon, please. I’m trying so hard to be the Welshman, Consciously or unconsciously I picked out pieces and Wrapped my own vision around them. I know I’m a thief. Haunted by a long ago encounter And struggling to acquire near…
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Will-o’-the-Wisps #2 *
Will-o’-the-Wisps #2 My true companions who never fail Flashing here and there Illuminating pathways to the nether world Dazzling spinning My Arms outstretched to grasp the earth With fingers seeking purchase To slow my frantic pace Always to the edge And not one step beyond For fear that Fates may lead me Where I would…
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Autoeroticism
Autoeroticism Writing is an autoerotic endeavour Usually performed secretly in the dark. The audacity of placing a consonent next to a vowel In the expectation of something significant Is hubris. A sin. The writer is guilty of stroking his own ego Then taking no responsibility for the outcome. It’s pleasurable, but pointless Unless there is…
Palimpsest 