Cabbage Dreams I am dreaming my cabbage dream. I’m peeling off the outer leaves to find what lies hidden beneath. Looks much the same as the outer leaf, a little less battered and crinkled but fundamentally the same. Now for... Continue Reading →
Not Much he was told not much even as he washes the canvas with his art arranged the words to spell heaven they did not see much until the painting was almost done until the poem had reached its last... Continue Reading →
Retirement No longer needing to commute, We move out of the city. Seeking the quiet inside a snow globe, The simplicity of tails instead of tail lights I’m charmed by the view out my window Two swayed back mares Eating... Continue Reading →
Venus I read once that Venus spins backwards no one knows why just accepting this fact One day you will learn to treat yourself this way no longer constantly questioning why you must struggle but instead accepting this as truth... Continue Reading →
When I was thirty I once ate the moon for dinner. I was a butterfly then, still half connected to my cocoon, left wing ripped, hanging on by its last thread, the other compensating. Doctors never cured me, so I... Continue Reading →
Little Vanishings At times I angle myself to make myself less clear to make this plane vapour Somehow I end up being a subservient bout of a masquerade Wounds are considered art so I water my wounds invariably Sooner or... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 