What used to be
In my life
Has gone
Like the dinosaurs.

It just disappeared
Into thin air
No longer there.
As I look at my bag
The one I bought
In that shop across the road
It's gone!
Just like the current shop
Disappeared!

What used to be
Doesn't bother me
Anymore.
It's not there
So I imagine
What used to be
And notice what is.

In a woodland glade a girl and I
Naked on carpets of bluebells lie,
Birds fly and sing as she and I
Profess our love neath a burning sky.

So long ago that girl and I
Professed our love neath a burning sky,
Soft bodies warmed by a sun hung high
Fused together we lay as one may die.

Many years have flown since that girl and I
Let free sweet passion as on bluebells we lie,
Many girls I have known but none could fly
My heat like a kite neath that burning sky.

A storm in a teacup,
Not a problem that is ours.
These war driven elites,
And their dreams, to go to mars.

Our lives are like wheels,
Perpetually carrying on.
A rollercoaster ride,
Until the day we're gone.

Through sunshine and rain,
Snowstorms or hail,
My will to life,
Won't cease or fail.

Despite the fear,
Regardless of hate.
My loving kindness,
Can seal my fate.

So I resist the urge,
I'll turn away from fear.
And dedicate time to love,
In this new year.

Beneath canopies, time whispers soft,
where warm wind shakes new buds of spring.
Velvet rain drips instant waking
on dappled green limbs raised high aloft.

Each year grows a ring, a remembering,
Evangelising life anew.
Birds nesting high beyond our view,
and insects chirp, in vocal hymn.

While trees lay cold in winter’s grief,
roots tap the metronome unseen.
Each bough flaunts age in-between,
as branches hold time’s steadfast leaf.

Success, a phantom on a distant shore,
Her siren song lures me to strive for more.
I navigate the currents, dark and swift,
Where hidden reefs and treacherous tides drift.

I've felt her breath, a whisper on the breeze,
A fleeting glimpse through rustling autumn trees.
A sense of promise, carried on the air,
A whispered hope beyond all earthly care.

Not a possession, but a constant quest,
A burning ember in my hopeful breast.
To chase the dawn, to greet the rising sun,
And know the journey and the goal are one.

I’ve fallen in love with blue.

For a time, I never sought it’s cold hue.
I would avoid it, ignoring the solemn view.

How could I despise such a thing so deep?
Perhaps it was the times I would only weep.

But I alone, couldn’t reverse the damage,
That is until you, alone, could manage.

One late night, a phone and a call.
Was all it took, to eventually befall,

Upon me, a state of fear.
Or admiration?
It was too unclear.

But it all began to make sense to me,
The moment my eyes had opened to see,

More and more,
On a daily basis,
I am remembering,
The good times ,
I had with Shaya.

The words,
Adventurous,
Out there,
Come to mind,
When I think about him,
And the life we had together.

Other words include,
Disruptive,
Unpredictable,
Forthright.

He was full of charm,
And never brooked,
Any nonsense.
He was an engineer,
To the core.
He got things done,
With the parts,
He had saved,
Or re-used.

Tethered by your memory,
you come back time and again.
And here you are once more.

And that's kind of the problem.
You visit all the time without being here
when all I want is just a while longer with you.

From my balcony, what could be seen?
Lilies in bloom, so wild and green,
Orchids in white with mystic glance,
Whispering calls for time to dance—
Come sing with us, this day pristine.

The sun descends, the golden queen,
Her brighter eyes, both wise and keen.
Then higher climbs, in its holy manse,
From my balcony.

October: Stillborn souls couple under sterile stars.
Here, a stagnant security claims a restless rule.
Peopled Rorschach Palimpsest spit gravel, dragging
their heels most often. The city’s radio codes whisper
as broken thistles basted in moonlight shed a boozy
peasant’s blood. Molecular moons made from ablatory
atoms balloon, blowing like The Challenger. This sonic flossing,
for the psychiatric patient, enhances from a lunar
organ’s dropsy. He knows batshit bees craze their prey