Long Wee hours Poems

From ISIS to J HORE totally 
unafraid of the JIHAD domestic 
threat arriving to end my 
life over my American poetry 
accompanying Rasta yago 
waving a 9MM driving a 
Tahoe parked next to her 
dark...

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Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Five

The Monseigneur knew that they must be successful in this venture as the “Lord’s Madmen” or face the very real possibility of eternal damnation, if...

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He had tore down all of her defenses in a matter of minutes, he was the first man who even got that close to her. She never felt  vulnerable before in her life, depent on...

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When I was a boy I wanted to be Martin Luther King,
For his life sings of the strength of unconditional love,
Which can only come from above,
But when I became a man, I gave myself to...

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In the beginning after God had finished creating this land.    
Satan boldly challenged the heavens for the absolute control of man.
Gods’ architectural blueprint stretched for ages across the sky 
He watered the...

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Why do evil exist why do people expose domestic violence victims to their abusers to cause harm shame to relive terrible pains I will never understand how we seek shelter hide like spies an yet...

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Telling tales or stories is a favourable pasttime;
But using pictures to tell stories of past and present,
Yours remind me of days back in time,
Would not be all very  recent,
Last ones of grateful recline
To golden...

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I  sat at my desk in the early hours of the morning listening to the words of the mighty one calling “windows to my soul” kept warning. I didn’t question it, I didn’t understand...

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Dear Me…

                             Today my thoughts are about you, only you!
                       ...

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On becoming a night owl...,
no matter whether or not ya give a hoot

especially after feeling super charged
watching the second night of 
Democratic National Convention conclave
ushering a hint of "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.

Men and women are born...

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People anticipated, and waited for the day they could gaze upon my beauty, and that they did. The men adored me, the women admired me, and the children were in awe of me. 
Everyone loved...

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He sat behind the counter, 
   Inside the used bookstore.
      I thought I recognized him, 
         As if we'd met...

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I so adored late hours. I was what you would call a night owl,
As fireflies seldom appear, until creamy moon is on the prowl.

I loved the quiet and peacefulness, and staring at a big moon,
Just...

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Mama – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Mum » by T. Wignesan

Kevin Gilbert (July 10, 1933 – April 1, 1993) - father of Irish-English ancestry, mother an aboriginal from New South Wales - was orphaned...

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Rhyme  Quatrain



Telling tales or stories is a favourable pasttime;
But using pictures to tell stories of past and present,
Yours remind me of days not so recent,
And ones of grateful recline
To golden years so sublime.

Mother, telling...

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Dear Erick,
i remember like its yesterday when we first met.
Second Sunday of the cold July
few days to my parents anniversary.
you said,"Hi am Erick and I would love to know you!"
We exchanged numbers
we shared photos of...

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I woke up suddenly and leaned against the helpless wall
hoping that it would support my abounding weight but instead
I had to rely on the courage and faith that kept me alive over the years.
With sweat...

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When I was young,
cupping my ears with my tiny hands
because Daddy was mad
I blocked mommy's screams,
had to see all the fights 
between her and the monster
I wanted to save her,
but I was hiding and crying...

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Day-223 “I Am Your Constitution”

In the wee hours of the night
There came a pounding on my door
Up from my bed I rose

Who’s that pounding on my door?
Why are you pounding on my door?

 Wake up!...

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The Stop & Shop strike v. Game of Thrones. 
In Game what’s not made plain
is the condition of the people
compared with warriors and queens.
There’s no mention of land-clearance, tree-felling, 
pruning, chopping, digging, hoeing, 
weeding, branding,...

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The murderous monotony of every day, drives one`s life away, one breath at a time, with the mind pushed to the very edge and off the plateau where reason prevails. Where life is sold to...

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Why Do I Write?

I was born in an era when Shakespeare, Shelley and Wordsworth were kings.  Reading them was like hearing beautiful music and after all these years…it still is. Then I fell in...

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when another (anointed as lady lucky) 
 resident renter bequeathed her bed  
prior to that good samaritan deed thyself and spouse 
   slept on the floor like dogs dead
tired from another day...

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Smooth wood 
Worn by water and air
Never polished 
Escaped by the hands that touched it
Ropes and tackle attached streaming up towards the sails
All foreign to a land lover.
When tied at bay she seems so tame...

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They hit the road before the break of dawn kicking down doors rattling gates and slamming car doors. “The computer people a goh kill the woman ova there so, we a goh murder her!” threat...

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