Introspection Daffodils Poems

So peculiar
It springs up its head
On late Winter’s bed.  This morning it was
That I fenced in my hand from pulling

The bloom — where put...

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Mothers day

She gave birth 
from a smoke filled womb
the umbilical chord around my neck
eternity choked
tossed into a world
of loneliness
discarded garbage
my mind slowly rots away
bitterness ebbs...

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I am anywhere, I am everywhere, and most of the time I am nowhere.

I am silent, I am loud, and most of the time I...

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Looking back, one thing comes clean-glass clear
you were always there for me subduing every fear.

I tried to do my duty, be a husband strong and...

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Legs that can’t fly
Heart that can’t love
Lips dry
Kisses under go a rye

I am blind
Only seeing within the past lens
Only holding on to memories
That wont last
Your...

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"Fallen leaves lying on the grass in the November sun
 bring more happiness than daffodils"



Looking back through the years, and the springtime of youth 
Rewinding...

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oh how cold
the drift of migrant winds 
unto the strip of lawn, 
their newly planted garden 
now slowly blooming
with jasmines and herbs  that rise
above...

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I find waking up a challenging, time consuming chore 
As I rather enjoy cavorting with kings, queens and wanton whores. 

I admit I’m drawn to...

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There is a special secret place
Where my heavy heart will go
Fair this lovely little garden
Care of nature here I know

Alone, gentle breezes whisper
Grown in solitude,...

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A chimney on a low rise standing sentinel 
On the loosely scattered outskirts of town.
A reminder of an old house built by hand, 
The home...

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I placed them in a vase last night 
	As stick-like ugly things.
	This morning they are glorious, 
	As if they’ve sprouted wings.
	So many things we could...

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Snow drifts  buoyant on the breeze downy  
like a dandelion seed touching the cheek of dawn delicately...
Endless crystalline patterns of white grace ...

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Tin Pan Sally she was known
Picked in dumpsters - lived alone
Sally slept at "Harbour Court"
Left on Douglas, right on Forte

Cup of soup and chunk of...

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Beyond a wounded battlefield,
The trumpet said unto the hill,

Listen to the daffodils
Listen to the daffodils 
 
“The fist of mars redeem thy space
From mortal men...

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In the morning I'll write
"daffodils" on spring white
paper, and there is no need
to be sublime, the movement 
is enough  To be so blind

as seeing...

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