poetry upon water

your words ripple
effortlessly across
my soul soothing
wounds left too long
unhealed and seething
bloody anguish
glistening until
the next wave rolls in
releasing me from
an angry past
at last, aye, at last
serenity cleansing
my all too eager
profanity preferring
instead to lay my
head upon these sands
and allow your words
to wash over me
once more like
poetry upon water

[gratefully inspired by the humbly brilliant David ben Alexander at https://skepticskaddish.com/2021/03/05/twitter-poetry-2021-week-9/ ]

Enjoying the sand and waves just down the hill from where I once lived in Turkey (2011).


however winsome
however weighty

some souls deeply
more deeply indeed than

leaving indelibly behind
a rhythmic imprint

of so much more
than words themselves

[Inspired by Lia’s Abalone eye, cedar moonfellow at https://liathepoet.home.blog/2021/01/26/abalone-eye-cedar-moonfellow/ ]

absent words

why have you abandoned me
my once constant companions
who had teased my keen imagination
frolicking in the lush gardens of my mind

i recall so well the days my thoughts
were awash with exhilarating concepts
eagerly analyzing exotic words
playfully pondering stimulating sounds

when with tantalizing enthusiasm
i swept you all up in virtual arms
like the soft new fallen snow
but like the snow you melted away
to become vague uninspiring memories

and where are you all now
my oh so fickle faithless friends
whose mind do you sweetly inhabit
whose desires now do you stir
urging only others on to greatness

why sits this sluggish mind so agonizingly still
bereft of even a single meager word
worth the speaking, clinging
bit by bit by bit to the meatier
more venerable thoughts of others

i once was a creator, a builder
an artisan of words and ideas
relishing the warmth of my own inventions.
now i read, i listen, quietly i reside


willful whispers arrange
the beats of this heart,
voices that shroud
these virulent nights
with aberrant loathing
and derivative dreams

perceptive phantoms
carve tokens of truth
on each and every page
spelling the most abject
syllabic mediocrity ever
to be lisped by such a




Salt Lake City 03 Dec 2012


word after word, sound chasing sound
these utterances climbing growing shying
at the bare-boned thought of emptiness
so obsessed these words with resurrecting
flesh that should in frigid earth entombèd
lie and yet deny such morose musings

no, they seem to say, we are much more
more than this and more than simple you
in silly dewy desires of flesh on eager flesh
lithe and fulsome flowing sensual streams
of dreams of me and you and me and you
and still no end in sight to this fine fantasy

they twist and turn and beguile beggar me
bounding grunting from bed to sweaty bed
they insist and implore and clamor yet
for more, these untoward titans of mine
reaching for an Olympian summit beyond
anything this mortal man could imagine

I gird them about my feeble frame, a sultan
of the Cage who has too long dithered
at delightful maidens and succulent feasts
while cowering at the fall of metalled feet
approaching in stealth and deathly mien
to steal my life for but a word, a sound

I clawing cling to them in ever fitful slumber
like Endymion watchful to the last for her
his lunar bride, be not far from me, beloved
heed these words, these sounds I gaping gift
unto you sweet temptress of brittle being
of distant seeing, of most delicious words

Salt Lake City 04 May 2012


I have been told–however undeserving–that my voice is pleasant to listen to. By which I think was meant that people fall asleep when they hear me speak. Which may be why I prefer writing. So if you are having trouble sleeping one night, this link will take you to a folder of me reciting my poetry. … Pleasant dreams.

reciting “words”