Those Few
Everyone
is born unique
But many die
as clones
Lost of promise
Grace endowed
With joy bereft
a drone
Everyone
His image shared
Till falling
from the Light
Beatific
Vision lost
Alone
— to face the night
(The First Book Of Prayers: February, 2026)
From The Maelstrom
We are
separate
We are
distant
We are
many
— we are one
From the
cities
From the
country
From the
maelstrom
— we become
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
So Close And Yet ...
Feasting on the
lettered law
Abandoning
its spirit
Crippled by
the sanctioned rules
Afar
— when we’re so near it
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
In The Offing
Poetry
is the weight training
of writers
Building new couplets
each musing
reweighted
Lactic
endowment
new pain in old phrasings
Success
in the offing
— as writing expands
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
nothing there would be
without the vast Universe
no humans, land, sea
none here for better or worse
no lineage and odd verse
with no galaxy
adrift in cosmic darkness
no angst, apathy
rather complete absurdness
wrapped in unholy starkness
without stars above
could there still be you or me?
no rush, push or shove
all silent with nought to see
without longings roaming free
no blue, green planet
circling the Great Attractor
no floors of granite
no acts by a strange actor
sin becomes a non-factor
none subject to change
no progress or thoughts divine
nothing to arrange
no strange dreams or past bed-time
bound inside the timeless time
without history
when ancestors were not born
total mystery
when from existence we're shorn
leaving none to weep and mourn
such is human debt
while life is in the offing
driven to regret
when cosmic paths are crossing
'tis not dice we're tossing
When the weatherman warned
of 50% rain in the offing he neglected to state
and neither advised nor informed
what the other half would advocate
perhaps hail sleet smog snow
or fleecy fluffy clouds
floating overhead instead
and if so I wonder where they go
wind-blown oh so far away
I guess we'll never ever know
meanwhile we'll have to wait
to see what his non-prediction
weather-wise will precipitate
Spreading like covid
your words it infects
Through vowels into consonants
each phrase it subjects
No drug can divert
fated spores on the wind
Arriving like locusts
attacking within
The Muse has been stricken
her voice it impales
While spreading to others
each time you exhale
The body count deepens
your messaging damned
No cure in the offing
— dead silence at hand
(Dreamsleep: December, 2025)
They begin sipping then supping the Best on cask
Charlie the legend of the barley does a guest ask
What are you up to for the rest of the weekend?
Well regulars would often become a good friend
With a big grin..they swig & say…not a lot mate
Won’t go far…in the offing a spot of bar mat flipping
Will be here till late relishing & cherishing your beer
Gags & chinwags spin laughing gear quaffing just staying in…
Materializing
memory
photos on the wall
Immortalizing
tomorrow
vision to recall
Prescience
in the offing
feelings coming home
Sentience
remaking
— that forever known
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
As good
as they got
Clapton
Allman and Page
Their music
still borrowed
the Delta
on stage
Technique
in the offing
devoid
of the pain
As juke joints
and crop shares
sing out
— in refrain
(The New Room: August, 2025)
Learn to Fandango
castanet in your hand
Tambourine calling
its bells to command
Dance every Tango
before it’s too late
Death in the offing
— the wolf at the gate
(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)
I don’t know
what it is
I know
what it isn’t
Revealed
in the offing
An image
— takes form
(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
The windmill is ready
the wind is not
Breezes far distant
never reaching the spot
Change in the offing
consent from within
One breath pouring outward
— and blades start to spin
(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)
A journey landing in December
Road to the Moon of wonder
Trip of four to remember
East of Eden fonder
Milestone is in the offing
Instilled dream becomes a happening
Strobe lights showing and playing
Second-scheduled mission, but first crewed...
Wandering aimless at night
Seeking hopeless for light
Remembering beautiful past
Suffering from memories,aghast
Where I was yesterday a host
Now, I am merely a guest
The city which once was so beautiful
Filled with all colors of joy,wonderful
Turned out to be colorless
Never ending cries fill the air
Ferocious screams, blind eyes and deaf ears
Peace lies at the table like a dice
When these assaults will cease
May the new dawn in the offing
Be the hope of new spring
Where the colours of our beautiful past returned
Where the fragrance of our lost spring retained
Midnight was approaching.
A New Year is in the offing.
I see her a few yards from me.
Lovely, enchanting, alluring.
We smile, we approach,
Silently we clink glasses,
Sip the bubbly drink.
The countdown begins
Towards the new year.
Our lips brush,
O the ecstasy of love.
I feel her soft face,
Her slightly parted lips.
All around seem to disappear,
We find ourselves
In a vortex of love
Light as we find ourselves
In the delight of weightlessness.
Hurtling up in elation.
Standing in the dark
Kept in the lost ark
Longing for a spark
Hidden like a lark...
Underneath my ark
Nimbling is a shark
Waiting for me to fall off
Craving to bite me off...
Not too far I see an ark
There you stand as I stark
As my ark closes in
You decided to jump in...
You asked my name
I asked yours too
You saved my name
I was pleased to know you...
For twelve days and nights
you stayed in my ark
Thirteenth day you bade with delights
"goodbye" to steer your ark
"When will I see you again," I asked
"Our paths will cross again," you gasped
"...you are the Prince of my heart!"
Somewhere out there, you'll never know...
a new life is in the offing.
(Prosebite)
sweet susuration
moon-drenched landscape silhouettes
love in the offing
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