FROM THE EDGE

From the fires comes the soil of independence a revolution of being disconnected resisting the effort to conform just to exist   while the street calls for a voice and the paper for a pen   desire hopes for the stars to align, discovering the balance under a full moon Advertisements

JUST UNDER

Night travel the vehicle of sleep a voyage beneath eyelids a place of forgiveness absent of answers voices remembered faces forgotten   a little bit of heaven from a preachers heart the sound of hell from a gamblers hands   favorable moons the burn of lemons and the taste of honey   crossroads in the … More JUST UNDER

MY MOON

silent moonlight brushes silver over my face, as I gaze into infinity of dark the beginning without a bottom.   stars compete for my eyes with hanging diamonds and heavens beyond look back at me   man in the moon full of cheese, a wink and a half a carpet of chrome       … More MY MOON

RECOVERY

Desolate promises the unexpected highlight of yesterday the inherited creation for the newness of today   it was a narrative without stop a gift of holding onto where whispers become words and night has no fears   the strength of rivers provides no answers while distant moons release abandoned angels into the hearts thirsting for … More RECOVERY

CITY WATCHING

Yesterday’s puddle reflects a crescent day moon. Leather jacketed teenagers hold court on Bowery Corner. “Which way is …?” asks the stranger. Three people point in different directions; the lost hold the discovery of where they need to be. Overhead subways kill the corners with sparks. Car horns take apart the air. Sun reflected windshields … More CITY WATCHING

A LINE DRAWN

It’s a slow step into cold air; the season twists out a new face. A cat meows at a half moon. Heaven hears the barking of angry dogs. Strands of mist stretch from street lights. Whispers rise from the alley. Window dressings slumber. Libraries welcome closing hours. Rain reduces the burden of clouds. Dead winter … More A LINE DRAWN

WET SAND

The moon pulled the shoreline into low tide, revealing the oceans resistance in ripples of sand. Treasures lay exposed or half buried in wet sand. Seagulls feed on trapped shells. Pools of water hold small fish soon to meet their end. The strand, dry with wild hair beach grass looks down from its headboard to … More WET SAND