Tag Archives: poem

Street song

There is the measureless madness of the streets, That cacophony of horn honks, The thick packed traffic I step through in staccato stops, Backed up blocks, Radiated by engines idling, Hot and cancerous. There is the smell, ripe, rich, revolting, … Continue reading

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unfinished imperfect…

Clouds bloom across the night like the mould of a tea cup, The road roars quietly and I sit trying to find you in my heart. You are leaving, and of course you have already left. I feel your pull … Continue reading

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cracked earth and moonshine…

Last night as I lay awake thinking a bit too much, some words written nearly a decade ago came back to speak to me: I will not write, or weep, or live a cliché. Mine is the portrait of the … Continue reading

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just me, just this…

These days are crisp to the touch, barely born before they slip into the jealous grasp of the long winter nights. Without work, without many people around, hours should stretch on. But I am finding contentment in little things: puppy-dog … Continue reading

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