Dear Jordon, I hear you are gaining strength..I say
Go easy on yourself; mate,l.' there are things you have done that are so truly great, no man is an island, i beleive thats true..' So here I
Place a prayer for you.. Trust God alone; stay religion free, may you come back to full good health, and peace yours be.' Many
Cherish your impact, on this wayward
time, in Jesus this season who is our all.'
Here I call.' That each day goes now fine.'
It’s the respect you give
It’s also the encouragement and how you think positive
You make me laugh and we have fun
I am blessed for your friendship among
We inspire one another
We know how to be ourselves like no other
We get along quite well
It’s noticeable and people can tell
There are two sayings, “No Man is an Island and Man can’t live on bread alone”
Our friendship let this be shown
Friendship is something where one must adapt
It’s not something that comes from an app
Yet you won’t find on any map
There will be times of in difference
But that is what makes friendship unique
Friendship is something everyone should keep
But at the same token there should not be lies of deceit
Friendship is about truth
It might start within your youth
Yet trust is a must
I value you friend
It extends until the very end
Yes this is how our friendship began
Interest at heart
Togetherness making a mark
Our friendship has blossomed like the season spring
But the thought being one thing, “Our friendship began from day one
I am glad we are still among
This is why I call you friend
When I need you it’s words of can.
No man is an island
But all fingers ain't equal
Desperation cuts a man's life short
Determination opens doors
If you want to be great
You better start to create
God will never bestow on you
What you can't control or behold.
A baby born today
Can't chew or walk the same day
Fast is cool, if you can get through it
Slow takes time, but the journey is worthwhile
The clock ticks second and minute then hour
Season comes after another
One generation before another
Time always makes the difference.
You see why we have calendar
Because there's always time
So why settle for dime
Or move faster than time
I would like to say more
But when words are too much
It becomes void, many will avoid the message for the pleasure.
“The Watermark”
Black halos fall at my feet
like the Sun’s shadows kneeling
on beds of imperfect pearls in salvage prayer
scorching the past with its unspoken words
into a new day, the tattoos written sting
and you think,
you’re crazy
bare footsteps like poetry belong to a body of work naked
pretending to walk water along the white Capricorn sand,
no man is an island reading the Sky like it is the lover horizon,
dipping into the shallows reading their rippling waves
all breaking like prisoners escaping their water-mark tears
no lifeguards,
follow here
five fingers
five toes, alone -
gone tropic speaking to the magnetic undertow
pulling you further and further in
the heart is a pounding Ocean, every day calling
with its shining kintsugi grin,
“leave the shore
venture further out
venture further in”
shadowy selki
like a black halo falling
escaping the daft confinement
of a mad mortal world
into the baptismal brine of eternal dreams
pulls in the horizon like a lover,
sheds their skin
CandideDiderot. ‘25
“No Man Is An Island”
but that was before smart phones
To text and to tweet
technology’s drones
With ear buds in place
these Stepford’s march on
Virtually connecting
— to what’s already gone
(University of Pennsylvania: June, 2025)
Fireflies face extinction due to habitat loss, light pollution and
pesticides. What have they done to deserve such callous fate?
"No man is an island"
A saying by the English author John Donne
Fireflies
Born underneath enigmatic expanding skies
Cuddled by a Blue Planet of emerald and ice.
Like a serpentine river of gems silently arise
Gliding on gossamer wings evoking surprise.
Sparkling rubies wove in the curtain of night
Bathed in darkness in sheer ethereal delight.
Solemnly await the inevitable ultimate flight
Towards soothing rays of love's healing light!
Penned: 02/07/2023
4:25 p.m.
N. Las Vegas
Deliver me from the arrogance of self-satisfaction
Feeling content in myself, as though I needed no one,
Thinking of others as no more than a distraction
Failing to acknowledge how many helped me run.
Owing gratitude to the many mentors in my life
They share the trophies for victories I’ve won,
Many were there guiding me through the strife,
“No man is an island,” said poet John Dunne.
It’s so easy to boast and say, “I did it my way,”
Few, certainly not me, made the journey alone
Every one of us has many debts in life to pay,
Without a sculptor, we are rough-hewn stone.
So, let’s take a few moments this fine Sunday
Recognizing those who, for us, paved the way.
Written October 23, 2022
Remote works.
We're all floating particles, anyway.
Oh c'mon!
Let me live again!
How do we measure the distance
Between two hearts?
If no man is an island,
And every man is an island, then,
Where are all the women?
I'll go there, under the silken light,
Shifting passed the shadow dancers of time,
Scaling pudding-like blocks of emotions.
I'm talking cubes twice as high as your head.
Your head is not in a cloud.
Your head IS the cloud.
We're all working remotely,
Skidding and squirming around
Each other's feelings like
Over-polite mice.
Or blasting right into the hailstorm
With Mad Max mania.
Oh, the options.
Pick you poison.
Pick your President.
Nevermind, your vote doesn't count.
But I love you.
For more than two years, we’ve been riding
a tsunami, now surfing the sixth viral wave
and we’ve all become amateur epidemiologists.
Hooray for MRNA, but variants keep emerging
and we’re all getting tired of the Greek alphabet.
Me, I’m vaxxed to the max, still masked
and was negative in my last test, which
is positive I guess, and though I don’t
understand them, I have a bit of respect
for the antis and that flat earth leaning
basketball player, who if the Raptors get
that far, won’t be playing against them
in our home playoff games.
No man is an island, but with covid and
climate change, it sure feels that way
and zoom just ain't the real thing.
And with the sea rising, I feel that
I might go under, when comes
the seventh wave.
Hours of stressful birthing was an arduous task.
From Mother's waters I was pushed and drawn.
Since then, I've wondered, is it too much to ask
for a gentler method for a child to be spawn
then to be tossed into the stream of life to bask.
I paddled on a stormy sea yelling, "Bring it on!!"
I soon learned to accept the wisdom of Donne's,
'No Man Is an Island.' My choices took a toll on me.
I traipsed on stepping stones; watched setting suns.
Shorelines held no appeal, for I belonged to the sea
Life was a series of rom-coms and dramatic reruns.
I felt like I was homeless, floating in life's debris.
I swam with the ebbing tide, seeking a placid shore
where my hopes and dreams would not drift away.
I yearned for this, and something worth much more,
a heart bound with mine until our hair turned gray.
Are these few trenchant things too much to ask for?
If not, I'd be complacent any where and every day.
October 9, 2021
Islands in the Stream Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Ripples in a pool, like the ramblings of a fool,
Arc outwards and die, like us all, you and I.
Incurable romantics, and, despite the semantics,
No man is an island, we are one under the skin,
Be it gay, straight or bi, we are all of one kin.
Only remember, we are what we are
Wisps of dust, born of the same star.
You speak to my spirit with logic,
I answer your mind from my soul
With words in two disparate languages,
our discourse to never be whole
Your left hemisphere sealed in a vacuum,
when my right hemisphere comes to call
Though Donne said, “No Man Is An Island”
—you’re marooned there adrift toward the falls
(St. David’s Pennsylvania: February, 2020)
A day no true artist would dare to paint,
Breathtaking colors by God’s hand alone,
Spoiled only by a dark and lonely figure
Dropping tears on a freshly mowed grass lawn.
A nostalgic woman of former times
When a friend might come and sit a spell,
This, though, is year Two Thousand Eight or Nine,
Belying that “No man is an Island.”
These Islands move like shells loose floating,
Privately on streets, behind closed colored doors,
Concealing problems they try to erase,
With their solitary searches for grace.
While wisdom’s left over figures of life,
Sit amongst God’s colors and doze alone.
Why can't I forget your name?
You swivel my head around and ignite a warmth feeling in my heart.
Surely,I cant and don't want to let go of this feeling stimulated by your presence around me.
Like Taylor swift you'll leave me with a blank space if you walk out of my life.
Stay with me like Sam Smith sings as no man is an island.
The Convivial Mancs Minx
Stirrer of the Soup
Front and center of the Loom
Feminine rat pack crooner
An erstwhile trusty steed
Who participates and loves to read
No man is an Island
But a women's playground
To fell with words and pose
And she is a sullen rose amongst tidal waves
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