poet

The Hurricane

In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence, for our ruthless ruminations to make the internal voices, shouts, screams, and whispers less potent… Read More ›

the Wind

the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages of an oft-read book she’s stirring the smells in her grey cauldron summoning the memories… Read More ›

The Wait

My time drips to the floor Vanishes in the cracks Drunk by the thirsty wood Like water from a capsized glass Leaving me unquenched Letting the canyons on my face run dry As I wait for the world, the people,… Read More ›