Sunday, May 28, 2006


I have never reached the end of a notebook
Writing in its final pages
but never filling that final third
leaving a thick region of white
untouched, unfinished, potential
limitless possibility, the call of cyberspace
perhaps I was just meant to write forever
on line

Sunday, May 21, 2006

on one hand

time flows, never stopping
hearts beat, forever bleeding

no button to press pause
to watch your wounds, wrap in gauze

years compressed in memories
seconds molded, relived pleasantries

looking forward, one hand's worth of days
blink, and left are no fingers' worth of stays

Wednesday, May 10, 2006


these pictures
they're useless
seconds captured
seconds already lost
already fading
how I felt just then, I now
these images won't tell me
how I felt, or
what I lived
just a monument
a posed smile
blurred lights
all gone away


legato violins always struck me
as the best music
for sinking
cry in time
with the Merry Widow Waltz
As your world becomes tilted
no longer parallel with the horizon
the two will meet and merge
hope floats away
in lifeboats