Poetry ~ The Slow Drip

Drip, drip, drip, came your words
hurled forward in time to disturb 
you left us all those months ago
but preloaded your words to explode
shattering the senses of those left behind
who no longer wondered what had been on your mind
clever, witty and riddled with rhyme
your words haunted and taunted well past your time
And your last post, so reassuring, “don’t worry I’ll be fine.”

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Poetry ~ Silence Never Lies

“Remember me?” his letter began. 

“Of course,” I responded pen in hand.
“Where have you been? You sent no word.”

“In another land. I thought you’d heard.”

“No, only silence, loud and clear. “

“Sorry, my darling, but now I’m here.”

“No! I don’t need a lover who runs and hides. Your silence was my answer and silence never lies.”

Poetry ~ Winter

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In this land of winter,
     stillness calls my name
     and with each fallen snowflake
     autumn’s forest is reclaimed.
In this time of winter,
     the darkness reaches deep
     and draws light from the night 
     as woodland creatures sleep.
In this time of winter,
     in my cabin by the stream,
     I rest my weary body
     and allow my heart to dream.
In this time of winter,
     my eyes grow grey and dim
     and I foresee the coming
     of this life that’s soon to end.
Yet, in this time of winter,
     I am reminded of ‘the way‘ 
     that just as nature falls asleep
     she shall awaken one spring day.

Poetry ~ Incomplete

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her words
fall in shambles
in various shades
of incomplete
falling from the ether
cluttering her sheets
pressed in secret places
where no light can penetrate
embracing the darkness
each word must bear its weight
she wrings them through her rhymer
and measures their metered feet
then rips her words to pieces
and declares them incomplete

Poetry ~ Seriously?

Seriously
Why are you so serious, 
so stuffy and aloof?
Slip off your tie
and stay a while
and let’s debate the truth. 

I agree life is important 
and somethings matter more,
but nothing rises much above 
the people I adore. 

And you, my love, are highest 
on my list of most desired
So, let’s settle down 
and play around –
your participation is required!

Poetry ~ Silence


I have driven myself mad in search of you, my old friend,
Silence.
I cherished the solitude of my childhood, immersed in you,
Silence.
I find myself yelling at the world to shut up! I crave you,
Silence.
I scream inside my own head to stop talking and give me,
Silence.
I am reading a book entitled “Quiet”, in search of you,
Silence.
I will not stop until I find you again, my dear friend
Silence.
I hope we are reacquainted soon. I am in desperate need of
Silence.


Poetry ~ The Dead Inn


“Boo!”
Howled the Gatesman as I pulled up the drive, “Welcome to the Dead Inn, we’re so glad you’ve arrived.”

“Boo!”
Screeched the Butler as he opened the door and the maid looked up scrubbing blood from the floor.

“Boo!”
Groaned the Innkeeper as he tossed me a key, “Your room is upstairs, it’s marked door number three.”

“Boo!”
Snapped the Bell-hop with an evil glare, “It gets dark at night, hope you’re not scared.”

“Boo!”
Roared the monster from under the bed, “Enjoying your evening? You do know you’re dead?”

“Nooo!”
I screamed as I gathered my wits and ran down the stairs calling it quits. 

“Boo!”
Cried the Watchman as he locked the gate, “Oh, you must stay for dinner you can’t afford to be late.”

“The others will join you around the table at eight. All dead on arrival through these rusty gates.”

“Boo!”
Laughed the Grimm Reaper, “I guess heaven can wait!”

Poetry ~ The Great Green Graspy!

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I have a mysterious memory that rattles my mind
of a monster that came knocking at story time.

Of course, it was a stormy night, all those years ago
I was a mere child, how could I possibly know?

That an old gray man, in an old green coat,
would arrive at our door with a book he wrote.

Oddly, Mother invited him in from the storm that night
and gathered the children before dimming the lights.

Then the old gray man sat in Father’s big chair
and opened his book and said with a glare,

“Come sisters and brothers and have a seat!
There’s a new monster in town I want you to meet!”

The old man’s voice was deep and raspy
as he read the story of the Great Green Graspy!

“The monster grabs children when they talk in their sleep
and he hides them in the closet where they can’t make a peep!

The Great Green Graspy is a brittle bag of bones
with ghastly green teeth and a heart made of stone.”

“So, beware, dear children,” the gray man groaned,
“for the Great Green Graspy creeps into homes!”

“He’s particularly peculiar about children who groan
when the lights go out and they’re left all alone!

Sleep soundly dear children and beware the green glow
of the Great Green Graspy, if you groan he will know!”

When the story was over and the old man stood to leave
my eyes grew wide in disbelief!

The old gray man in the old green coat
cast a ghoulish green glow and appeared to float!

All the sisters and brothers screamed and gasped
and the old gray man began to laugh.

With his big green teeth and his ghastly green eyes
the old gray man had one last surprise!

“Tonight, dear children, when you’re tucked in your beds
if you hear a door rattle, remember what I’ve said!”

That night in our room, as we tried to sleep
the sisters and brothers didn’t make a peep.

But then next door, in Mother’s room,
Father laughed and we heard a BOOM!

The closet door slammed and Mother screamed!
Was it the Great Green Graspy!
or just a dream?

Poetry ~ The Metal Collars

They’ve termed them, “the metal-collars” the  robotic workers of our age an artificial workforce already on the stage.

It’s a troubling scenario, more prone to prose,
but this poet must expose it in a verse they don’t yet know. 

Can metal-collared robots replace humankind?
With artificial intelligence, they can replicate the mind.

But the heart is where true love and wisdom reside,
where artists and poets create with the tides. 

Machines and robots may take over our tasks
but there’s no human heart under their masks.

To be human is to feel, to love, and to dream,
to write poems, make art, write songs and to sing.

But what if this is the future that was meant to be?
What if metal-collared workers allow humans to be free?

Poetry ~ Eye of the Storm

Remember how frightened you were when the storm formed in my eyes?
You were visibly shaken but safely tethered to the earth with your lies.

When the lightening flashed you cowered in the corner like a child.
Then the thunder boomed, the skies grew dark and the winds blew wild!

We were in the throes of it when I looked up at you and cried
and a teardrop fell from my cheek and mixed with the rising tide.

Then the waves crashed savagely on the windswept shore of my heart
and what was once our love was flooded and torn apart.

Why didn’t you heed my warning to be faithful and true?
Instead, you pierced my heart with deception and withdrew!

Now, as the storm subsides my heart is transformed.
Oh, darling beware, for I am the eye of the storm!