Fingerprints on lenses soften harsh red lines that mix with strands of hair whose wisps curl in front of tired eyes.

The glare of light on white paper, blinds

Building points of pain behind the nerves, in the depths of my brain.

In those moments I close my eyes

The pain recedes

Clarity of escape forms in snippets of fantasy so often viewed it’s edges are tatty from wear.

A soft echo of music, the fragrance of flowers in the air, a sonorous voice pontificating as I lean back enveloped by Miss Doolittle’s enormous chair.

I’ve never stayed so long as to see the face of the man who’ll take good care of me, but I suppose somethings aren’t quite meant to be.


The Usual Wait

They are talking quietly downstairs, the words I cannot hear.

The wind moves in winding fashion through the naked boughs of my myrtle trees.

Geese moving across the sky in this darkness make an odd and muted cry.

The waitress next door sits in her car, the engine idling in laborious fashion, she will go in after awhile.

My mind is busy thinking of things that will never happen while I wait for sleep’s arrival.


The stars are blazing across the blue

Falling, falling into the ocean too

They are wishes

They are hopes

They are dreams

Lullaby’s careening at break neck pace

These shooting stars

Stars of Wonder

Stars of Might

They are diamonds, and dust that once were men.

I see them still all silvery white flashing across sceens

In the dead of the night

Their magnificence lives for awhile at least

Amongst the unfiltered, unfamous fragments of beasts

And then we smaller particles will pass into the vacuum

Of a black hole


Then reborn

Seen through the magnification of a fuzzy lens

Potential greatness that brings joy


(For those we lost January, 2016)


365 Pages

A year is gone

The next one started

For those you left behind

Impromptu moments

Jack in the box thoughts

Pepper mental meanderings

The pictures of you

Driving through snow

Rachel by your side

Phaedra nestled on your lap

Flashes of countless meals

At nameless diners

And that damn Army Green coat

The songs on the radio

I imagine they tell me you are close

You became our Big Chill moment

I kind of hate you for that

Your quick smile is gone

And so is your laugh

The verve and the melancholy

Lay down with your sarcasm, and wit

So many quips silenced by a shot

The odd pinch in my chest

And breath caught in my throat

Salt my thoughts of a fast fading past

I choose to remember, I choose to hold on

Your ashes are scattered

Your belongings all gone

No footsteps remain

Only the pictures

My eyes captured

They grow fuzzy each day

You are ephemeral now

I envy you that

The Truth of the Matter


Maybe I am not sorry at all

The chafe of skin on skin in summer

Light cotton clings to skin as sweat beads

The sun roasts

The clouds float

Days pass slowly

Synapses trundle electrical currents

From left lobe to right then back again

Thoughts on an infinite loop

Become Archimedes Screw

My downward spiral

Pinning me to your specimen board

All my colors on display

Stacks of calendars mark passing days

Irretrievable moments of my being

Gone in a blink

Seconds wasted pondering years gone by

Chances and choices stolen and made

Circumference and tethering I did not get far

And yet I traveled the world

I know Sycamore from Beech

Klein Blue versus Sky

Agamemnon to Arthur

The road to Ithaca and Route 66

The answer to Azúcar as tin floats over the Amazon

Si y crema por favor

I enjoy my coffee sweet and mellow

There is too much bitterness in this world

I ask for forgiveness, life is easier that way



I think that I shall close my eyes and dream of far away,

of mountain tops

and rivers of stars in galaxies far away,

I shall close my eyes and think of you and dream of far away.

As I dream of this distant place where ancient gods like to play

I shall hide among the thorny bushes

in shadows

among the things you cannot see

I shall close my eyes and wish things different tho they will never be.

In this dream of far away there is a chance that I might wake

inside the myth

breaking the dream and bringing it to light

And I find you standing there before me in this place so far away

your hand outstretched

And you say to me, It’s about bloody fucking time you joined me.

Via Galactica

We are the stuff of super novae

The dust of cosmos and stars

Crafted by the hands of Providence

Crushed by the gravity of implosion

A moment of violent erruption

Silent arching forward motion

A beautiful vale revealed

I shall sit for a moment like Kundun

Draw deep meditative breaths

Eyes closed; heart open

I will see where we have come from

Opening my eyes, know, where we are going.

Zomer Bliksemflits


Verlicht de hemel

Donder ontploft


Morsen als tranen over mijn wangen

Wind waait hard bomen zwaaien

Ramen weggeschoten en wazig

Blad en ledematen
Zwaar van het gewicht van het water

Donder rommelt

Geluiden drijven weg

Regenval verzacht

Nabijgelegen vogels kwetteren

Geïrriteerd door de douche
Wormen en insecten komen te voorschijn

De aarde is te nat om te ademen

De zon gluurt

Schijnt en droogt

Achter de grijze weg



Small sharp knives sink into soft flesh

Delete key worn and covered in dirt

Lost in hesitation

Check the mirror time and again each time finding flaw

I look down at the dull red organ in my hands

Flattened, misshapen, missing bits given away

It beats in weak rhythm

Strength ebbing like low tide

There is no line waiting to receive

No picking

No choosing

I thought, for a moment

Something beautiful whispered in my ear

I must be mistaken

There is nothing here.

Gibbous Waxing

The palette of the sky is a Prussian blue

Fine and clear

A smattering of stars

A thin line of swirling veridian green clouds on the horizon.

The moon, it is Naples yellow

Words have passed over my lips

Spoken in firm resolve

The cerulean blue of your eyes

Flashed with a bit of manganese

You did not answer

You turned away

I sit alone under the waxing Gibbous moon

My pockets empty, a treasure lost.