Archive | Poetry RSS for this section

How peculiar is man, that what saddens him most is the loss of things that never were.


Beneath the Sand

Any man with a dream at hand
A wayfarer from a far away land
Destined back beneath the sand

Can truth be told from what memories hold?

My vigor back beneath the sand before I can see dry land.

My eyes still open
Up late at night dreaming tales of better men…

Nighttime revelations

Tell me, when your eyes happen to open in the night. 

And you begin to lose sleep. 

Lost in a single thought. 

Mind unclouded by the daily noise. 

Covered by your blankets. 

A place and time where anything is possible.

What is it that you pray for?

And every night a fool prays that which he has lost the will to fight for. 

A dream which passed long ago.

Such Sage

You’ll seek out a friend.

Someone who gets it.

Knows the words.

Acts by inaction.

Sees over the big picture.

But there is no such sage. Only you.

Beware the lost traveler. She abandons you then appeals to her sincerity as to your whereabouts.

Favorite Shade of Green

The man though an agent of annihilation
Cannot help but feel ripple of sentiment at his core
For the long standing woodland before him
He reluctantly chops away for what should be
A quick end to a fresh start
But the possibility of what was already a probability
A false hope to a dead end perhaps
Bonded to an illusion of a memory long past
That was his favorite shade of green
And all it took
Was a misplaced and unintended spark
To ignite the fire of an unrestrainable reaction.