That first time I loved her,
A moment so brief,
The body, mind, froze,
Imbued with relief.

Lyrics of familiar songs
echo across the ages
some mundane
others illuminating genius and style
simple or complex
moribund or profound
thoughts and images floating in the air
ensnare in a web of gossamer guile

Though I could not nor would not
want to produce something similar
would be a joy to capture substance that’s new
but with the feel of the familiar

For years, a careless hand did fling,
Our earthly refuse, a discarded thing,
Into the void, a cosmic bin,
Where gravity would gather sin.
But shadows grew, a creeping blight,
As sunbeams failed, obscured from sight.

From darkness deep, new horrors crept,
Where tainted dust and metal slept.
Diseases bloomed, a morbid strain,
And whispers rose of endless pain.
Mass extinction loomed, a chilling dread,
A silent sentence on our head.

The streetlights shine through my window
The sound of slowing traffic hits my ears
I can feel the chill of the night on my skin
Goosebumps randomly appear
Like specks of dust on my tv stand
I should sleep
Yet the subtle variations of sound
keep me intrigued
sirens in the distance
Chattering girls after a night out
The Closing of taxi doors
Couples saying goodnight
Giggles and flirtations
Completely oblivious to me tuning in
Thinking of all the times I was them
I close the window

On my leg
is one more scar
on a map of scars.

On my right
arm from the removal
of the heart on my sleeve.

On my back
from the removal of the
monkey on my back.

On my temple
where I took you off
my reeling mind.

The largest scar
is on my lifeless chest where
I ripped you from my heart.

Today
I spent time
with two of my favourite people,
my daughters.
It was a day
of togetherness
and self care
at a day spa,
followed by
a meal at a local pub.

On my return home,
I received a message
which reminded me
that I have crossed the bridge
between my past life
and my present life.

Poems don’t have to be about severe emotion
Nor do they have to be about devotion

They can show how a baby plays
Or what to do on lazy days

Poems describe many things
Including insect stings

Parties in the dark
Playing in the park

Shaving in front of the mirror
Or simply sipping on a beer

Poems reflect every thought
Including the things we bought

What I am trying to say
Is that poetry is our thoughts at play

The Lake shines like an eye in the Landscape.
The ice covered world covers the ice covered slopes.
The glorious summer will radiate in the lagoon.
When Spring brings Summer as a lasting shimmer brightens to Fall.

Fall and Winter polish the earth's rays.
As snow and sleet dazzle the ice covered slopes.
Fall has the flame of red and orange leaves.
As they glisten in the briskful warm air.

I sent my love through static air,
past stars that never blink.
You waved from Earth. I can’t wave back.
What next? I watch the planet shrink.

I told myself the moon was kind,
though it couldn’t speak my name.
I made my bed on orbit’s hum,
and feathered dreams of fame.

The signal cracked with ash and fire,
a last message: ‘Brace, impact, gone.’
The world slipped into silence,
but the sky played on and on.

Splashed stars like freckles
Stopped glittering their silver
coats. Sound waves paused
not Reaching there distination
Eyes frozen in space black, no
oxygen.

My lungs gagged
becoming asphyxiated.
Water stopped running
The planet stopped spinning.
A journey into a new world
No evolution.