Long Shorelines Poems

In restorative justice programs,
victims of trauma establish facilitated goals for healing.
Victims are our first clients of solidarity.

But, our clients work on actively responding to punishing loss,
to violence,
violations of what could be,
and should have been, peace.

Peace...

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In the red desert of the rising sun  
In the surrealness of its silence  
The sky turned grey and ominous  
Amidst the blackened  rain   
As the suns fell into...

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Mi Madre
Lung of Life
Heartbeat of the universe
Birth of consciousness

Mirror of the heavens
Grains of sand
Beneath my tender flesh

How glorious to gaze upon you
I weep with the realization 
Of you
Almighty in heart
Power
Awareness

Giving life to light
To energy
To oceans...

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Whichever Man

Beyond the window there is a stripping of the mind to the other side. Lost to the lost-world of pain, it gives way to blasphemy then begging.

It's not a touching side as yet but...

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Sometimes, when 
your sparkling spirit 
waltzes with me 
to the perfumed 
periwinkle grooves 
of saffron breezes, 
I'm lost in a forever gaze, 
within those 
flickering ferns
of a nascent nightmare, 
where I ain't any 
velvet-purple orchid,...

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This poem is a special devotion for my mother, who has always been a healing sun for these wintry eyes. Mumma, you're my hope, my strength, my magic and my heartbeat. I'll always find my...

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  Dear grandma, 
       you were my litchi  s u n r i s e, 
  encasing stars in honeydew of  h e a l...

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Written: April 12, 2024

Rumi Quote: "I am an ark in the swift flood of time, and my companions, a fellowship. Who throws in with us sails into light"
1st place contest winner

    ...

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Oh my sweet and beautiful Penelope
Oh how beautiful you are, and when I see you come down
to the pearl gates of immortality and come down to see me,
as we join hands and walk the shorelines
I...

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    When lotus  d u s k s
         are sequined with a gown
   of glittery s t a r s ,...

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When cyan night's 
raspberry moon
is dipped in softness 
of the afterglows, 
I gaze at that glossy
first evening star between 
creamy fingers of 
my cherry palm, 
which trace lunar kins -
those angelic fireflies, 
twinkling and pirouetting,...

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Music and romance are camarilla comrades,
just like poems are my shield and arrows.
But not all lullabies of lovers,
harmonise like a street choir of angels.
If love resembles the weather,
then poetry is like a snowflake.
Its fragile abstract...

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Seeing this now, I still, being blinded by them I find I am still frightfully often fighting Him and 
this, and these facts. 

And knowing myself and knowing no other viable future, without Him. 

His...

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Many of things I long for, desired nature
Dwells like the thick, I strive
Perfection, excellence, that is not me
Nor do I desire such of me
For those I surround, wishes none but what I will
Shall fall upon...

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life without love
was how nature planned it
instinct was the way

instinct was the way
was how nature planned it
life without love

symbiosis
when two become partners
instinctive for one

instinctive for one
when two become partners
symbiosis

the mighty oak tree
supports many life forms
inadvertently

inadvertently
supports...

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Brutust Iulius Trois Page 07
Brutus called his captains into conference
we are done with creeping along the shorelines 
prepare now to sail out across the Aegean
the winds are with us and Troy awaits! 
Imogen seeing Hesione,...

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Oh Sweet Island!  Thou tropical paradise:
   Miles have I traced upon thy ceaseless reach
Of ocean-choked shorelines owed Heav’nly device
   Sheltering I, this marooned guest on thine endless beach.
Safe House against...

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There is no poetry without you  


Softly flows the sunset colors
painted on tired skies with fire
Igniting a wafting cloud in orchid tints,
the fresh scent of pine lingering within its escape

Drowsy horizons boast their claim
along...

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66 Million years ago
Fireball from the sky hits 
Echoing life-planet,
Snuffing almost all in darkness
Mouse like burrowing under the inferno. 

1750
People harvested like wheat
Strong men, children and women
Especially women
Packed into sea vessels 
To Build America

1854
Holding stinking...

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{For Mareena}
   On the bank of precipice, i stand
   Appealing to impotent gale;
   Not to nudge the dosing hurricane awake,
   Let the aborting breaking wave lull and...

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My eyes cry for
fuschia glimmer on 
indigo waves again,
but all I see are 
haunting hues
of black sequin
glittered epitaphs;
reflections of hollow 
clouds enveloping cold air;
building tension 
within my heavy heart. 

I am surfing alone, 
watching the...

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She was raised on the shorelines of Lake Wawasee
her mother a full-blooded Miami
and her father now buried on Syracuse Hill 
said she will have his eyes. 

She’ll always remember the day that he died
with fading...

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It’s taken care of.
A friend of ours
who owns property by the Ohio river
has agreed to make use of her pontoon boat,
to take my ashes, to scatter them.

I have been working toward this, making plans,
arranging for...

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We suddenly strolled down Lakeshore drive
facing Goethe street named after Wolfgang von
Goethe famous German poet just at the crosswalk 
while waving to the hidden Walter Payton  
nooks wandering steel of recycled metal 

forming beautiful...

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All my adventures are at an end, 
and the treasure I have salvaged 
over the years, I have stored away.  

The map that guides locked safely 
in the many memories of distant 
places visited....

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