Grandfather Destiny Poems

As I stand before this old, dilapidated house,
A structure fast decaying and about to crumble, 
With its walls painted grey and white,
And the plaster bearing...

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His aged fingers squeezed hers at last
    Was this a final, fatal goodbye?
  Her tears stuck to her pillow
  ...

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While on the topic 
of blood kith and kin,
I relate another 
fabricated poem about 
blimey bloke of a fisherman. 

Trawl tale of a fictitious seaman...

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THE BEST LAID PLANS…

When I was young…growing up…still a boy…not yet a man
when thinking about my destiny…I had some awesome plans.

I knew early in my...

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It falls softly as it tumbles...
Down from the sky darkly...
Deep in the heart of midnight.

Not a deity stirs at this moment out of time.
As young...

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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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Looks like my grandfather fallen over 
Around brown with the sunken Grand 
My visaged tan round 
My hair recedes like in a sounding wave 
As...

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Swirling twirling wisps of smoke,
Fragrant and pure threads of dreams,
Soft as new laces,
Dreamy with a touch of sleep,
Sanity, it’s hard to keep,
Dreams finally coming true,
Long...

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"I Say To The"
Can you see me? 
Your eyes open but not wide.
Ears finding sound tho the message still hides.
Things we take for granted on...

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in a thick milk bottle
a dark green one
which grandfather found on the beach after the war
having inside a shriveled yellow paper
without any drawing
without any inscription
the...

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Dreamers of Dreams

Incongruous realities of microcosmic minds
Torturous awakenings in lives raging reminds
Dormant and deceived are rapid eyes moving
Absorbent are neurons firing fluidly brewing
~
Images living through...

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“Now behind the eyes and secrets of the dreamers in the streets rocked to sleep by the sea, see the titbits and topsyturvies, bobs and...

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Old man, old school
Young man, new rules
Self-taught all out, times bout to expire
Now the youth today look lup to themselves riding the streets with flat...

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Most folks I loved
died when I was in my thirties.
Not just people,
but our San Francisco bohemian mecca lifestyle,
our 365 days and nights celebration
turned into an...

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Dying Trades

The stone mason

he was old now
his hands unsteady.
The eyesight fading.
in winter he worked
inside his barn.
it could let the rheumatic
cool down to let him work
for...

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