Poet. Writer. Photographer.
I used to write love poems,not that long ago;the first were to the starsto birthe my heart's hope. I used to write love poemsto passionately release feelings,but they were stamped "return to sender"with the sweet salt of unrequited's sting. I used to write love poemsto no one specifically,just to let Eros seeI was beginning againto … Continue reading Verses of Us
It was a dark and rainy early Saturday morningthat I felt the rejuvenating movement of air fan the cinders of my soulon the side of the fire neglected for only a short while,yet the glow that yearns the most to be fed seems overly sensitive to the cold. My muses knew and rose to perform … Continue reading Tending the Fire
When the world is still, when predawn so subtly changes the sky in the same unrushed manner as the return of open eyes, I thrive. Only the birds are lively, but their cheerful news I entertain; through the open windows, they chirp tidings using my name. Sun rises in splendor just for … Continue reading When the World is Still
I will never tire of morning birdsong, the daily rising of the sun, the ways the rays beam between trees, the clouds that form in such artistry, the freedom flaunted in wildflowers, all the colors of twilight hours, the breezes that rouse my desires, the stars that kindle my dreams afire, for as long as … Continue reading I Will Never Tire
In this early dawn, I let the stillness be, observe the lightening of dark transforming gradually, so subtly, yet the colors awakening are so softly profound, the beauty almost too much to behold with the eye, so the heart and soul absorb the excess, the spilling over, and preserve it as a natural resource to … Continue reading This Sunrise
The winds arrive and excite the waves, even the green line up about the bay, my car detours the same way, all of us drawn to bid farewell in reverence to the last light of day, casting down in glorious display, the awe once ingrained can never be washed away, to witness the heavens on … Continue reading To Witness the Heavens
A poet knows the subtle rattle of the soul's cage.
The power of the pen calls me to wield it, to sacrifice my welded shield in exchange for it, summoning me to lay fear beside it, so with both hands and heart and soul, I may pour myself into the inkwell and come out infused with the letters that may change the world, or at … Continue reading Pen of Puissance
The sun sinks and lifts, stills, my spirit. Twilight settles soothingly upon the horizon in soft hues given as a unique gift never to be offered exactly the same way again. The waters simmer down to ripples lulling, calling my soul to rest for a few moments. The lines of the manmade pier somehow complement … Continue reading Le Soleil and the Bay
Back and forth through time
