Long Dustings Poems

Fragile flower, buttercup
Swaying to and fro, dancing like
Inspiration, swallowing up the dark
With its rhythm, gentle and soft
Caressing the breathless moments
With hope, kindness and grace
Feelings that remind the spirit to hope
For the whisper of love’s embrace

Delicate...

Read More

I woke trembling on the threshold of dawn 
as dappled sunlight through my window shone 
Upon my primed canvas there had been drawn 
a masculine image with finely chiseled cheekbones

What virile fantasy had I born...

Read More

Mendacities wear smiles made of porcelain with teeth more the stature of fangs which drip poison of an end to which I find myself entrusted; shattering is for the mirrors, and being is the soul’s...

Read More

Beneath the forest's canopy, the bluebells glimmer in quiver,
Dancing on a carpet of blue, flowers that lead in the ether.
A bass clef fluttering of nectar's verse, they open secret trails,
And quietly, tiny creatures carve their...

Read More

I am winter 
 
I can hear the birds singing,
calling for the sun to rise
from dark branches scraping an alabaster sky
Full of life they sound,
perched high above a frosted lawn,
clinging to sticks, crooked and bare,
formed...

Read More

~

Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty

Street lights shiver in snowcapped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves...

Read More

                        Something is missing from our winter days
    ...

Read More

I, too, dislike poems.
I’ve tried runes (and rampikes)
but that’s affected
rather than merely effete.
So I call them
figments.
When people query
What do you write?
at a barbecue or birthday party
I say soliloquies,

fractals,
fragments.
Self-similarities,
singularities,
sculptures (scriptures), geometric shapes and series,
three dimensional triangles,...

Read More

    
When winter sleeps… 
….earth’s colors drain, like falling rain
          again and again
          ...

Read More

Alabaster streaks of warmth 
in its dewy first glow,
tepidly stirring the senses, as 
my gaze roams to the 
trickle of ebony beads; 
in the distance, 
chimes of granular dustings,
with fragrances rich in 
mahogany earthen grounds,...

Read More

We have an agreement myself and I,
Today is the day I'm not going to cry,
A good day ahead is all I can hope,
I promise myself I won't sit round and mope.

We have an agreement myself...

Read More

Deluged with the nostalgic era of you,
Your lush verdant scent lining 
Wistful sentiments upon idle reflections 
Scattered in fragments and fine dustings, as 
I acquaint myself with futile intricacies—
Devoted to your unwritten absence, 
Wandering in...

Read More