i watch you cross the courtyard
each stride encompasses my full attention
hair that flows below the shoulders
a brunette with a tinge of amber
as the sun dances in each strand
closing in, my smile emerges
a reciprocal one graces existence
an extended hand lands in mine
soon i am enveloped in a brunette euphoria
lips lightly nascent of much more to come
lunch and then retreat into afternoon delights
who can deny the ecstasy when we disappear
into a moment when the world vanishes
has lost us in an ephemeral existence
that breathes in eternity
where the eagles fly forever free
mid-air acrobats, lifelong bonding
an afternoon in aerial bliss, nesting
birds of a feather
Oregon 10/8/26
I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees
Pablo Neruda
I would like to think that the world is kind and fair, and that good deeds comeback around, I'm a true believer in paying it forward. And sometimes they do.
But I've lived long enough to know that's not always true.
I've watched good people bury their dreams, their family members, and their hope.
I've seen good men get cheated on and treated like dirt after they give their all.
I've seen loving women get left playing both parents and carrying the whole burden alone, while hiding behind a smile that masks their pain.
The million-dollar question has always been: Why them?
The truth is, I don't know.
What I do know is that suffering can uncover courage, faith, and strength
you never knew existed.
Bad things happen to good people.
That part is true.
But I've also seen good people do remarkable things after bad things happen to them.
I've seen them heal, reconstruct their lives, and rise.
The miracle is not that they escaped the storm but that they survived it.
When you love someone
And things don’t seem
As perfect as they used to
When you first met
When nagging doubts appear
For the first time and
Then again for the second
When do you say
When is Enough?
When you love someone
And the criticism starts
But said with a smile
On their face, but no warmth
Or they don’t like how
You wear your hair,
Or your clothes,
Or when lies start
When is the right time
To choose you?
The question remains
How many times do we hurt
How many times
Do we defend them
Before we decide
When is it enough……..
climbing again
? always
assumed at
confine cost
or fallacious
boardwalk whacking
my unlipped
tongue can
misread and
stomp your
plastic shark
outlaw rebelliously
questioning generalist
cushioned rubbish
mutely muddled
disregarded draftsmanship
from beloved
husband potomania
dibble straying
innately downriver
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • October 5–11, 2026)
~ When you --
enter the world
you’re born
get your first haircut
you’re shorn
are dumped by your love interest
you’re forlorn
get three job offers
you’re torn
lose your cool
you’re scorned
are asked to keep a secret
you’re sworn
play with fire
you’re warned
pass on from this world
you’re mourned
A more simple time
Easier smiled through.
Could it otherwise appear?
Whose air, echoing, more clear
Freedom's shout. Friends drew.*
Daring wanderer's;
Undespaired about!
Home door, ma? Dusk-oped, received.
With nothing bought as retrieved
Pond, storm drain from out.*
* Large green spaces
* Tadpole, ball
Nothing could be heard
Prepared for bed all alone
Reflective mirror thoughts occupy the mind
Give silver chalice a rub
Conjuring commitment stone
Nothing could be heard
Curiosity invades
Throwing a bone
Reflective mirror thoughts occupy the mind
Winter cold soon will arrive
Mumbling a grumbling groan
Nothing could be heard
Outside a crispy leaf drop
Destination known
Reflective mirror thoughts occupy the mind
Future cannot stop
Google AI on the cell phone
Nothing could be heard
Reflective mirror thoughts occupy the mind
He's nobody's best friend, but you've always been his.
All the significant others think he's lowbrow and obnoxious.
Yes, on occasion he overindulges and offends
He's started and finished more than his share of scraps.
And yes, there was that monumental, marque eve
when he sprayed the stilettos of your latest squeeze.
But he was also the only one left,
when that sequined petal turned into a weed of death.
He's nobody's best friend
the one who's always left out in the cold.
but he's the only one who tossed a ring
when the dice jumped velvet,
when the breakers rose,
and cracked the rudder of your soul.
So, hold on to that secondhand friend
because the others will surely blow away
when the maelstrom of blackness descends.
I was born with the weight of someone else's world on my shoulders
Is this the definition of an old soul?
Youth that carried ancestral curses like crosses and was forced to grow around their crushed bones
given a gift of rage that wasnt mine
until I learned how to call it my own
Once upon a time the screams had many voices , then one day they all started to sound like me, my mouth filling with words I was never meant to speak
I watched my innocence flee , and give my power to the fear that swallowed me
instead of running for my life, I ran straight into the knife that I carved out of my worries
the lost child bleeding in my hands
When The River Was Empty
“When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.”
– “Your Ex-Lover is Dead” by Stars
When the river was empty
you moved on…
I stayed
gaining nothing but age.
Tell me the day
does not equal decades
sifting through silt
and cigarette butts.
The sand proved too quick
for you to stand.
Old currents have caught me
and brought me back to our beds
through unteachable trails
where none is less travelled.
your footprints
still lead me ‘round
to when the thirst turned
back upon itself
creating
a wasting whirlpool
of what was
to be.
Why can’t time just forgive time?
And move me along instead of drowning
me in all my wrongs.
Someday the cold cold mountains (as they do)
will melt making many many drops of forgiveness
forging a small spring anew with life
reviving a renewed river,
rushing my ashes
to renewal.
“Here!” “Come see my plane fly; my train choo choo!!”
“Look at that funny cow mommy, ‘moo, moo’!”
“Faster, daddy, faster!” “Again, yes, wee!!!”
“One more story mommy, p,p,p,please!”
“I’m going out.” - “Where?” Mum asks. - ”Hmmpphhh… Just out!”
“Where’s my shoes? Why isn’t this washed?”, I shout.
“Board games night, really?" "I have friends y’know…”
“My life is over… he dumped me”, I groan.
“Oh, woe is me, my life is half over!”
I expected a house, kids, ring, rover…
the dream job; not dole and redundancy!!!
“I’ve a bunch of cats now living with me!”
“Phew!” “Two moments on the sofa, free from…
them!!” “Yes, the kids rule the roost, all day long!”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Though, I could do with some more time away.”
“A new lease of life!” “Barely past forty!”
The golf, wine, cheese… “Grandkids, go be naughty!”
“What a time it is, hey, to be alive!”
“Old, ha!” “I’ve learnt to just live and let jive!”
09.27.2026
(For the Five Perspectives Contest - each stanza representing different ages: 5, 15, 30, 50, 70.)
Soft stars stitch the sleeping sky.
Cold clouds carry the last light away.
Night names the dim, dark road.
Wild winds wake the slow, silver stream.
Bright birds, soft songs rise.
Small seeds stir; green grasses grow.
Warm winds whisper; brave buds bloom
Oh, I think about them a lot;
The letters you would have written to me.
And know I'll be keeping the letters until the ink fades.
So, write me a letter every now and then.
And on the days in between, a little note does the same magic.
Now, don't worry about not getting the same treatment.
I learned love before I could speak a word.
And I'll love you in every word, in every language I know.
Those letters you would have written would be my favourite words to read.
I'll write back every time you want me to.
And when you don't, I'll love you the hardest.
Write me a letter when you're finally here.
Living near the mayor,
I am inconvenienced when
A head of state comes through the gate,
Which happens now and then.
The secret service and the cops
Block off surrounding streets
And if you try to get on by,
You’ll suffer some defeats.
But it’s much worse for those who live
Or work near the U.N.,
For they are barred, which makes it hard,
From getting home again.
Between the protests and the police,
They’re sadly out of luck.
Like all the crews who film the news,
They’re flat-out simply stuck.
We city people know the drill,
But still keep seeing red.
We disapprove, but would we move?
We’ll suffer here instead.
Do you see this home I made,
as well, the streets, houses and moon?
You are just a game I play,
ceasing to exist very soon.
Once out of sight, out of mind;
mere puppets dancing on my strings;
Life is illusion, you'll find
no magic with what freedom brings.
I will create the rainbows
or thunder as my mood dictates;
My rules, nobody knows,
along with all your future fates.
If you deign to interfere
I'll fill you full of distraction;
Better say your prayers right here
and give us both satisfaction.
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