Best Washing Poems

As a young boy
Sitting in a pew
The winter darkness pressing down
Candlelight waves from hidden drafts
Shadows danced on the walls

I heard the words destined to me
“Be...

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Hourglass

Sand falls
Through the glass
Love falls
Within the past
Memories dance
They never last
Head in my hands
As I stare overhead
At the hourglass


Falling Down Stairs

Stairs broken
Wheels unspoken
I fell
Grasping for air
Are...

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~Perfect Rain~

I can see!
All the tribulations around
A rage against the burning wind
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice
Everybody avoids feeling the smoke hidden within
A...

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I woke up that day with tears in my eyes,
after I heard about your father's demise.
Guess you've never understood,
the point of being his blood.

I remember...

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It's raining again, grey neon skies,
washing away suppressed surfaces,
to reveal unhealed wounds,
to scars the eyes cannot see

sometimes they bleed.

Some say words heal,
but I resist to...

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 These eyes have often been solaced

by twilight's cotton candy pllows moving silently

towards a sky's velveteen blanket

and angels'silver gowns

By gazing over hills

to where old country...

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oh precious, dulcet diva, ocean-tide
you, of sand and foam and spindrift -
all your moods and meanderings
speak deep my spirit, wistful and wan
musings captured, gist enraptured...

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Hiding here inside my closet, I feel safe in the dark
knowing on a pile of sheets lies my very psyche;
it's only a thought, yet I...

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tenderly ...
as if robin's eggs
I consider the brittle fragments
of her heart, cupped in
my tarnished Tin Man hands -
not taking for granted
the entrusting of their care
I...

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“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
Khalil Gibran

In days of darkness,
sad stars shimmer like somber souls.
Upon...

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I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once...

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Looking down my tree lined street

the setting sun casts her glow

upon the Chestnuts, Maples, and Oaks

dressed in worn out yellow ribbons 

telling the story of...

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There’s the tightrope for you to walk, wire walker —

defying the gravity of reality and the reality of gravity
you know damn well he won't catch...

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I'm not selling a house, i'm leaving my home.
Happy times together, months spent alone.
Morning sickness, baby loss, labour and birth
Planting my seeds in good strong...

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I sigh …
pushing warm, wordless weight
onto the twilight mist,
where its folly hangs like old sackcloth,
the silver-doubloon moon dripping
it’s wan wonder to daub
breath and bones alike...

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