Red Flags.

How many wires

Did I have to trip

To finally admit

That it was a red flag parade?


Answer: too many,

Base instinct is underestimated

Next time

I’ll listen.




The ever-changing terrain,

Of the road so far

Ups and downs,

Like a life line

Just more for the adventure,



Mountains on one end,

Flat ground on the other

With category five storms,

That could tore you asunder.


A witness to life’s montage of events,

And sometimes

An unwilling contributor.


When the bad is hurled in my direction,

I try, with all I have,

To stop hope from diminishing,

Its simple really, mainly ’cause

I’d rather have anything,

But that drive finishing.







*My CyberSpace

Short and precise

This is but a slice

Of what I wish to share

This month has truly been a snare

Of vast proportions, trapping free time

Without this,  I’m no different from a mime

Over-exaggeration? ..maybe

Its actually kinda crazy

How often I think

Of what i’ll write

when I come back to this space

My one and only

Special place.


Questions? Contact me:

Taking command.

Nothing more enthralling
Than a dance with words
A high irreplaceable
Once it occurs.

A pen nearby
In case I need another dose
God given talent
That I indeed hold close.

I shift a line here,
And sometimes a rhyme there
With a sometimes cold
If not demanding stare.

In my own world
Where I’m in charge
A poetic front-liner,
I’m my own Sarge.
Strategic positioning
On the war table
Of metaphors and similes
As much as im able.

Is my enemy,
Surprising the reader
Is my remedy.



Take what you will
From the poet’s page.
Written aspirations
With the intent
To see past the minds cage,
Personal perceptions
Of life and virtues
A downpour of mingled feelings
Whether it be rage
Or a recollection of the days
That never seem to fade.

A diary of varying pigments
Relative deciphering
With each written segment,
Different sets of eyes
Discerning different ties.

Like a roaring waterfall
I plan
To keep thoughts flowing till
Time stands still
UnOriginal of Dante, but still
Until then,
From the poet’s page
Take what you will.



Hold that dynamite

That I call words

Close to your head

As I light the wick

Each cylindrical stick


A verse, a word


And made

To do one thing:





Just, remembering …

2djs3RGI remember the days when people used to take the time to write a letter and send it to the Post-office; and the recipient, knowing full well that it’d take days or even weeks for a letter to get to its intended destination would pour their heart out on paper; marking every detail as clearly as possible. With texts and chat, the playing field has had a serious do-over, immediate communication prompts effortless responses, and unfortunately with every emerging generation the words in texts just keep getting shorter.

I asked anonymous once, “why do people rid the alphabet of its job?” and the response I got was, “We do it to save time” … … …Yes, because putting a single ‘y’ in ‘My’ will surely shorten your lifespan …

Call me a detail freak, but honestly, I’d rather chat with someone who uses proper wording, than someone wHu T0Ks LYk Th!S.

On the bright side: those who can’t spell have an easy out …



At A Glance.

From a glance,

she had me fixating.

The first glimpse marked the beginning,

The spark, that has me melting

A puddle of obsession.

Unparalleled apothecary,

The healer of my heart,

Sparkling, eyes

Like stars in the sky,

She has me gazing,

For what seems like hours

Each glance feels renewed

Beauty undefined,

My thoughts consumed

By the one, the only


Atop the tower

Sweetening the sour

With her smile

She has me

At a glance, smiling right back.