September 1, 2017

The month stated
I stopped
A pound of fear
Every second brought.

I needed to find
My internal voice
Remember to rhyme
Like it’s my choice.


The way

August 23, 2017

They left us here
To rot on the vine
Wasted away
Like useless swine
By we grew old
Had children of our own
Raised them well
To rise again
Even in defeat
We marched our way
Even in dispare
We found the way

A dark nights travel

August 13, 2017

When Isaiah lights the fire
We can gather round
Telling stories, drinking
Pretending to be profound.
The Truth slips by
In the grey of night
Often incomplete
Compared with daylight
But the stories are fine
When darkness settles in
Often of journeys
All riddled in sin
Home and away
Seem oh so near
The dark and the vastness
No longer bring fear
So dear Isaiah
Please do light the cord
For if we don’t start chatting
We’ll all die in this fjord


July 21, 2017

Lost in my own world
The Land in my head
Floating between
Cerebral beliefs
And surreal wonder
Only to find
This lucid dream
Of a day
Is not so lucid


May 23, 2017

Switching off
My tired brain
Before exhaustion
Drives me insane
Sleeping through
To morning’s call
Silent slumber
Dim and dull
Slowly turning
I awake
Yawning, sleepy
At day break
Then another
Day like before
Bleeding together
Now and before

Down in the dirt

May 11, 2017

The night came
And he saw
A reflection
In a dirt puddle
The city
A face
So much pain
That scuzzy liquid
Showed the ugly Truth

Fountain of youth

May 6, 2017

Let me weave the fabric
Of a tale as old as I.
How old is that
I hear you ask?
While let’s begin,
Buckle in!
For this will be a ride.
It starts out,
Long before,
I was old enough to drink.
Now the swill,
I sip and spill,
And with it,
My sweat does stink.
So long ago,
I was but a boy,
Riding along on my bike.
I rode it hard,
And rode it fast,
That summer sun,
I thought would last,
Until I grew old.
But it turns out,
Without a doubt,
The Sun shall always set.
Before I forget,
Let me reset,
And tell you,
This tale is dark.
I was young,
And had just embarked,
On a quest,
I’d yet to understand.
By the end,
I’d understand,
What God has planed for me.
I rode my bike,
To the old dike,
And watched the water flow.
Deep within,
I saw a sin,
A dark man drowning slow.
I tried to reach,
From the beach,
And save the poor old man.
My hand went in,
But as it did,
His face disappeared.
When my hand came out,
I let out a shout,
For he simply reappeared.
I did this til dusk,
Then realized I must,
Peddle home before night.
As it got dark,
I created a tale,
To keep myself feeling sane.
It turned out,
The face I saw,
Is the one you’re seeing now.
I’m not sure how,
The water leaked out time.
I saw what would be,
And I knew I wasn’t free.
So into the swill,
I sip and sip,
Trying to forget the end.
The next time I rode,
Down to the dike,
I saw the tortured soul.
He smiled up at me,
Told me to live free,
For in the end I’ll grow old.
That was a century ago,
And still I grow,
For I know I’ll never die.
I stuck my hand in,
The fountain of youth,
Only youth’s not what it gave.
It robbed me of life,
And filled me with strife,
Knowing I’d never be saved 
That is my tale,
So now I shall sail,
Towards the bottom of this drink.
For when I get there,
I’ll be unaware,
That tomorrow will feel just the same.
Thanks for the ear,
But I do fear,
Death shall never come.
So goodnight to you,
I bid you adieu,
And please leave me to my rum.