Long Frameless Poems

"Peace in the Nowhere"

Ghosts remain in this place
they read their words 
marked each day on walls
like prayers, it gives them
peace in the nowhere

someplace relevant to go

Ghosts commune in this place
disowned long ago or walked
off the...

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The following is a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh, the amazing artist who died of his own hand in 1890. He died, tragically alone, and in obvious pain, unrecognized and unappreciated by the people of...

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LOVE  CRY

                  I JUST WANT TO BE LOVE I JUST WANT TO BE LOVED
   ...

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When love leaves, taking your home and walls, 
Let the elements beat you down
No job or acquaintances to shield you
Nothing but waiting as your friend and foe
For a home with love buzzing in the hive
To...

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Amid once roseates mirroristic muse borne reflections ~

Images now manifesting themselves inside the dampened blink of time to find

But a bitter root spawning within jestives mocking mist touching it all....

A hearts turning unto the tainteds...

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Outside and elsewhere
existence is a leaf on a deep blue river;
a long night has set it free to bob and tumble
as an upturned mirror caught in the gray rays
of an obscure sun.

I listen to the...

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NATURE based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915) – (Edited by Debbi Guzzi

My feet, my feet chilled to the bone, 
as I sit, sitting here alone....

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At one time,
(a time so broad
that it knew no ownership),
at one time
the world was wide,
there were no nations, no distinctions
just naked humans in a well clothed landscape.

Then came the thought of ‘race.’
The hunter gatherers became...

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SOLE EXPEDITION OF MY SOUL EXPOSITION  

Your sole expedition
of my soul exposition:
Day and night falls, 
My thought calls, 
Flushed faced as staring walls,
Vizarded like blinking dolls, 
Frightened fixed eyeballs, 
And my frameless vision,
Was your...

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missing sides to my portrait lady

  blessings in time turn under a 
  spyglass bewilderment

absent the clues round your 
seamless skin. 
and the light seems to reflect 
unbroken along the borders
 of your...

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The Oil Soft Yoke

Alas, the contest sponsors do expound
on how to sail your craft, and where it’s bound
thus must the muse-less vessels get in line
wander straight and never serpentine

for hearts are frail and distant widows...

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The West is slipping away.
On the East side of this living space
light slips its shadowy leash,
paints a last frameless image
upon a bare wall.

Moving closer
I study a shape as it shifts slightly
while an unseen sun
shoulders the...

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It is never too late to become human,
to see reality and your place within it
not as a perceived world
or a conceptual reality
but as it is.

When you have risen from all thoughts of self
and awakened to...

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