Best Workings Poems

Often I harken back
to a very wise poet,
how “life is but a stage”

of tender moments
splashed and splattered
by fierce jabs of passionate 
heated rage 

such opera...

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I'm off on the beaten path
with Little Rosey in my grasp

There's palm fronds like a giant clock,
twenty hands instead of two
And there's the honeysuckle bush
that...

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It takes two to make a baby
But the women bear the brunt
Yet for reasons that confound me,
It’s the men who most confront.

They just plant a...

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Dad had threatened for some time, to reclaim the land behind the shed,
where rubbish over many years, had stockpiled but now instead
of being easy to...

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She said, if I correctly recall,                  
That, for...

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Elevating Heart



Sweat of Life
Piercing pain of Sorrow
Pendulum of gratitude in motion

How fortunate to experience  
To Feel
To delight in the depths of emotion
I burst knowing...

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V

Indeed, it is so far, far, far back where last I
Stood in sight of all her unnerving ambiguities...       ...

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Someday may these words I've written,
be cast upon the inner workings of peoples hearts.
When darkness begins to grip them,
and their worlds are torn apart.

As this...

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What does one do when in the public loo, 
Apart from the obvious one’s or two’s, well it’s true!
Walls decorated with an array of graffiti...

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You'll find it is a good idea,
now and then,
to look at the bigger picture:
see with a broader view
the workings of your fellow men.
A word of...

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In the morning, he was tetchy, but gentle,
Sitting beside me till my eyelids opened
I sat up, yawning, and rubbed my eyes
His hand brushed a dry...

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SATURN    -   GOD’S    FAVORITE


This  floating sovereign rules her black see *
Like an Inquisition bishop  -...

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If you go downtown early morning
You can see the shopkeepers setting
Old treasures on the sidewalk,
Writing their welcomes with chalk
On little standing blackboards,
Inviting you inside their...

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Let me run my tongue along the lines of your history
Around the curves of your past
Winding up to today, here 
Digesting through Braille the pricks...

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The workings of the hidden world
By the poet are revealed
The heart’s untangled in a verse
The secrets are unsealed
The poet paints a picture 
In timeless light...

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