so I become this wrought iron
that I have forged with my own two hands.
I sharpen myself,
tip to hilt.
but
my mouth,
the very blade that can cut the sky,
chose to speak in a healers' tone instead.
I remind myself
of the violence it took
to become 
this gentle.
this cup of earth in my hands,
with home beneath
my fingernails.
I remind myself
what it means to be
pierced to the marrow
...

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She walks masked, meandering,

unacknowledged through her neighbourhood

Wishing earnestly that she somehow could

share her true self

 remove the make-up painted veneer

she hangs nightly on a shelf

how emancipated she would feel

no longer enslaved within her mind

because of this facade

strangers think her, the vapid kind

no thoughts of value

within her head, you'd fi...

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It started when you saw me with Moira

Taking coffee in a bistro in Maine

Old friends innocently chewing the cud

Rendered yu distraught, quite insane

Two and two does not make five

Whichever way you try to slice it

Time to chill and cut me some slack

Or I'll reach for my hat and quit

Of course you know Moira perfectly well

I went to school with her brother

Ye...

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After a long hiatus I offer a piece that came from my recent Greek Odyssey.

The Smiling Man

Ululant sobs of brush-cutters

piercing its Elysian peace,

rivers of tourists cascade

down through old Olympia,

as still as the flowering trees

that colour its ancient sandstones.

Fallen mere centuries past, archaic capitals,

prone like road-blocks, guide the eye

to legend,...

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The shock was solid as a punch

That left me breathless, faint, unmanned;

So obviously lost that chair and water came

And it was I – so very briefly – nursed

Until my mind began to grasp the truth it had shunned.

How could I not have guessed or known

The woe, the pain, the destruction?

After all these many years, my failure to feel –

My hiding from the very possibility ...

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It cuts deep within,
Its' touch gentle and soft.
It barks and howls,
Its' voice lovely and calm.

Its' thoughts are demeaning,
Its' love unconditional.
Its' presence a weight,
Pride churned in the ridicule.

It beats you to your knees,
But your kneecaps don't agree. 
You stand on your feet,
While the blades stab in deep.

The scars show malformity,
Yet the face shows ever delight.
...

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(I'm aware this is a controversial poem and I hope not to offend anyone but I make no conclusions, I only ask questions)

The nature was deteriorating.
The sky was falling down,
raining pieces of ashy soot,
crashing and burning
and you weren't there.
Why weren't you there?
The birds squawked and screeched
and in-between their cries were mine, calling
and I was reaching out to you.
I ask...

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My life is not an open book
for just anyone to read
yet my life has no secrets
that cannot be revealed.

some people revel in revelation
Some like to gossip a lot
some like to know secrets
Thinking it puts them on top.

Truth is the more you know
the less able you are to discern
So busy gathering secrets
you forget to learn

that Life is its own revelation
We sho...

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