Life Wave Poems

A - rresting beneath dancing fingered fronds palming zephyr's touch.
B - each building sand castles throughout dawning sunlight.
C - rumbling granules of fate in the...

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I know an elderly lady
At her window she sits
She's always there when I go out
watching the world and people about
She waves and I wave back
an...

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We fight boarders, even among ourselves we kill 
Our struggle for life, we defend our decision
Wave of Crime, saturation of hatred one heart lead 
Trust,as...

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I caught a glimpse of a sunrise.
Pale magenta cast by the sun on gray skies
The cool air of early morn seemed to be my prize.
The...

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My life I see in the million moments
ebullient waves of a tempestous sea
meandering on the crest ,
ambition surfing on a raft,
looking for pearls
in the prism...

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Sometimes,
sailing in ebony blades
of saturnine seas 
brings forth a forsaken froth
of scarred reveries, 
when musk-ochre 
tints of sunshine cease 
to slice through solemn 
scarlet skies...

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We live sailing 
for making a living,
fisherrmen we are,
leaving our lives in the hands
of Mrs. Luck.

We cross the oceans
all over the world for fishing,
surviving for...

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Trauma stained 
my innocence, 
before I knew 
that the sunless 
sky lost its glory
to doomed darkness,
an empathetic gaze
which roamed beneath my 
saffron skin, 
an ungodly...

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On The Crest of A Wave


      Life boat totters on the crest of a wave
     ...

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Navigating vast oceans of life, negotiating its lows and highs,
Some blissful of pure joy, some burdened in griefs and sighs,
Riding aspirations eternal, rowing vigor of...

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When sorrow comes riding on the crest of a wave
    It hurts you, converts you
Into someone broken, bruised, brittle and not brave

When...

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An ancient mariner on the sea, I am sailing for ages
on the rolling cobalt waves rising high and falling low.
In the darkest of nights when...

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I'm wave-surfing on the crest of the waves of love,
Philautia, philia, agape, storge, pragma, 
Above all, the divine love that comes from above,
Which blazes me,...

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It's ninety eight degrees
in Jersey,
your hug felt limp, 
sweaty,
and forced,
like the old air conditioner
that creaked to life
when you made us coffee,
looking into my eyes,
just to...

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Dear Mom.

It's been just over 25 years since your passing.
I often think of the time when I and my little family
moved within a couple of...

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