A Muse

Another thing to adore
another body to explore
a muse to rouse you
right on cue

I’m more than you think
a mind,
a soul,
a bad-ass beyond control

Comfort needed for my pain
loved longing for you again
take this two steps back
unsure how to react
I’ve spilled my love for you
Now I’m angered by you

Objectified,
a muse…

Breathe Again

Image credit: AstroStar

I step out into the darkness
With the sky lit above me
The orb has reached its full potential
And I am reminded of the beauty around me
The twinkling above is the same as it’s always been
But much brighter than I’ve allowed myself to see
Somewhere out there under the same sky
You’ve been thinking of me
And I can finally breathe

Words

This poem appears in my poetry collection Coffee Shop Sessions: Whatever It Takes, Even If It Doesn’t Take available on Amazon.

I need words
I need better words
Words of joy
Words of healing
Words to console me in times of need
Words of understanding
Words to make me feel complete
Words of love
Words of compassion
Words that show a deeper meaning than what appears in front of me

Words that you cannot find
Words that you cannot express
Words that will never enter your heart or mind
And will never leave your lips

I need words to hang onto
Words that lift me up
Words that will make me want to come back to you
Words that will make me want a future with you

Words,
I need words

Train to Nowhere [with audio]

Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

The clock ticks in desperation to move us along, to where we belong.

Our eyes remain forward, no longer looking back.

The man in seat 2B sobs with tears streaming down his face. He’s left his life in his old place.

I soak in the faces of passengers around me, stern looks all around.

All longing for company, for answers that can’t be found.

Looking over my shoulder, the train across the way has the answers.

The lady in the window seat blows me a kiss; she has what we all have missed.

Looking behind me, the cold faces tell me I should leave.

The conductor denies my plea: this is the wrong ticket, I belong on the other train, you see.

As the train departs the station, I rise to bang on every window and door to set me free.

The whistle continues to blow. No one helps. Nothing budges. I’m stuck on a train to nowhere.

The train arrives at our destination. Heaps of garbage as far as the eye can see as flocks of seagulls swarm overhead.

This, this is where the train of life has led me.


Based on the opening scene of Stardust Memories.

The Last Goodbye

Resting his knee,
he holds his face
to bury his sobs
as she is laid to rest

We hold hands
as I gently squeeze
knowing too well
this may be our last embrace

Feeling his warmth,
his mighty strong hands,
he held us together
when she left this land

It’s only one slip away
before you’re gone too soon

On the drive home,
our last goodbye became true

Three poems

a poem written three times, each version has its own distinct story, while a line or two remains the same.


heeding the pull
of my heart,
messengers of truth
warned us from the start

spoken dreams know
their own curse,
silencing them now
timepieces have reversed

our covert love
begged for air
as buried keepsakes
pained to be bare

our connection:
seductive,
aimless; as we weep,
counterproductive


failed to ignore the
pulls on my heartstrings
after attempts to neglect
repeatedly listening

intimate poetry, I know
every verse
returning to it again now,
timepieces have reversed

like seagulls flocking
along the breeze
deep magenta love
floated out to the sea

what started this connection
with a seductive whisper
fell asleep
with a silent whimper


sprouting from the underground,
reaching for the light,
messengers of truth
tell us the news

spoken dreams
awaken us now,
emboldened by our own worth,
timepieces have reversed

our covert existence,
like buried keepsakes
begged for air,
pained to be bare

our struggles,
spotlight moments in
Hollywood movies; as we weep,
the only way we’ll be seen

the dust
has not yet settled
we will not give up
until each of us is handed
a golden cup,
a symbol of worth
a symbol that we are
no longer defeated,
we are the new leaders

Sweet Pleasantries

A honk and a wave,
A smile greets you
Not able to place the face
But you comply
Exchange greetings
Then she questions your well-being

Scrolling through the latest developments
You pick an appropriate response,
‘I’m hanging in there. Happy Thanksgiving.’
She returns with the same
Then disappears into the sea of lights

She is too kind
This is not the time
To tell her how my life
Has been tormented
And wrecked apart

Sweet pleasantries are all I can muster
Before we need to pull apart
And be on our way
Another time will be had
To reflect on those things
That need to be discussed

The Shape of Us

Image credit: Magnifier

The shape of our love, our version of it,
Exists in bubbling thoughts of former lives
And constant dreams of distant hearts
Where our lives are entwined

Ripples of waves intersect
Jetting dangerously close
But never on the same path
Turning heads, looking back

How do we get off this track
Without losing control,
Without knowing
Where it will go

The inhabitants look upon us
Making waves in their home
They tell us to let the waves subside,
Transform our shape and go