Sonnet
The Time has Come [new double sonnet]
THE TIME HAS COME [new double sonnet]
There’s much fine-trimming going on round here;
I’m slimming down my world to just a flame —
a single candle burning bright and clear.
To keep my equilibrium’s the aim.
So those who make false claims will be the first
to get the axe from my uncensored hand.
Next, constant rudeness which is interspersed
with hubris and disdain will get you banned. Read the rest of this entry »
Sonnet to the Face of Deep
I see a face and think “Is this a mask?
Has clarity been stolen from those eyes?”
These are the questions which I’m forced to ask
when I’m confronted with a poor disguise. Read the rest of this entry »
Sonnet for Borrowed Time
Like Autumn leaves, we live on borrowed time
before the parched and brownly breeze-dried branch
becomes a lifeless dusty paradigm,
when our molecules dissolve [avalanche]. Read the rest of this entry »
Sonnet to the Sacred Hole
Far too many love-songs do not really
speak of love. They deal with fuckness fickle —
light infatuation, never deeply
sucking on the temple’s golden nipple. Read the rest of this entry »
Nothing to Offer but my Words [sonnet]
Please walk with me, but only if you dare;
for I have naught to offer but my words.
That’s all I have left in this world to share
(although, for some, I know that this disturbs). Read the rest of this entry »
Whatever Happened to Joy? [triple sonnet]
“Whatever happened to joy?”, said the voice
inside my head, as I surveyed the crowd
before me who had made their fateful choice.
[That they were created, they disavowed]. Read the rest of this entry »
Evidence of Psychic Injury, part 1 [new sonnet]
“We’re equal”, spat the woman to the man.
“Whatever you can do, I also can.
We’re just the same”, she said, with venom voice.
“The only difference is I have less choice”. Read the rest of this entry »
A Sonnet to the Surge of Love
You say you want to build a wall to keep
yourself intact and all intruders out.
The price you’ll pay for that will not come cheap
(although you’ll give some guys the runabout). Read the rest of this entry »
The Time-Traveller’s Treason [double sonnet]
It’s treason for a traveller of time
to put down granite roots as if to stay.
Inserting more than tent pegs here’s a crime.
The secret truth is this: Life’s just a day!
Therefore, three years is merely but an hour
and every year is twenty minutes flat.
Such knowledge spirit-vision should empower;
new thrust to carpe diem and all that. Read the rest of this entry »
Bursting the Bubble! [new sonnet]
It’s easy in this life to soon become
a creature of our habits (safety first).
But repetition only makes us dumb —
stuck in a bubble which, in time, will burst. Read the rest of this entry »
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The Naked Troubadour 