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The Poet’s Solitude
Solitude whispers a deep and silent story From the shadowy depths of the heart’s abyss Where the pitiful quest for either fame or glory Withers upon the lips like a poisoned kiss From the shadowy...
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Why Do I Write the Way I Write?
“To describe is to destroy. Décrire, c’est détruire.” I write because your reading feeds me My pen exists because words need me Each spill of ink, each drop of blood A new branch grows, a new leaf buds...
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My Life’s Palette
It all beganwith the glowing green meadows;cool, dew-moistened blades of grasssoftly pressed into the shape of a young boy’s naked feet running frivolous and joyousin the backyards of my innocence....
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Mistress Moon
Her face is frost etched glass floating in the blue-black winds of the night; she illuminates footsteps hushed on decayed and dampened leaves; grieves for freshly planted souls who have turned from...
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The Receding Tides of Love
It’s easy to say goodbye – to meet again is hard. Love gone like rose petals fallen on flowing waters My thoughts of her are like these flowing waters, Meandering toward the open sea on their hopeless...
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