Open door,
companies here
I nudge a frog
back under his rock
Category: Poem
Glass garbage
An old bottle
waiting in mud
under grey clouds
the sounds of raindrops
a scattering of stones
a little wave crashes
down from the highway
Fast nap
a man dozing
under the evergreen
in my hand
an empty snail shell
sunset!
Lunar eclipse
Clearing cobwebs, out from a treasure trove
by the alcove, while the day ebbs I catch reds
fireflies that dove, drawing threads,
making webs, against a lunar eclipse
before laying their eggs, wary of intruders
the moonless night grips, soothing blips
where it’s rumoured lies an apocalypse
Window hopper
Spring through the window!
My cat turns, curling
Asleep without a moment’s notice
Sundry monsoon
Infrequent downpour spilling
Icy winds running through the night outing
Gusty winds guide me,
the path the water is tracing,
To a dry door, soaring above the petals
Flowing gently beneath my sandals
I watch the tranquil scene
I watch the tranquil scene
Beneath the leafless trees
My verses speak only of the balmy breeze
Over the still and empty nights
The luster of a pale moon hangs over
Undefined sorrows in an embittered quiet
No more of the he’s and she’s
Their vivid tapestries now lost
In the endless pathways of the night
Social medium
My fast wifi, you inspire me to write.
How I love the way you feed, sting and bounce,
Invading my mind day and through the night,
Always dreaming about the shallow flounce, that was my mind.
Let me compare you to a dead baboon?
You are more deadly, grumpy and awful.
Past suns heat the rotting peaches of June,
And summertime has the lawful coffle, of internet speech.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love your exciting blindness, skinless rage.
Thinking of your stupid takes, fills my days.
My love for you is a melancholy sage.
Now I must away with a woeful heart,
Remember my mean words whilst we’re apart.
Rain dance
I count on my finger tips the sound of raindrops
in yesterday’s sky while the moon and the flowers
Broken by voices singing
the moon and the flowers, under summer rain
my cat curls into a crescent moon
his fishy smells on teeth and bones
he purrs as the rain falters
New paint
The way home; as the footprints taper
I see yesterday’s footprints
have collected rainwater
An argument
stitched together in pauses
and a flickering lampshade
all that remains is hate
The damp walls-
the smell of rotting paint
with every breath
sweats into me
a strange intoxicant
I am home again
Energetic sleep–
an errant twig scratching
the broken moonlight-etched window
I wish I dreamt
of an old photo, us
in an blur of star shine
