What Goes Unspoken


The reminder that you’re slowly dying

Stems not from pain or lack of trying but

Regrets, they seep in thick and fast

This human skin won’t always last.


The reminder that you’ve lost your way

Tomorrow’s burdens seize the day

Then when sweet victory arrives; instead

You pander to a swift demise

(Discarding truth to feed the lie).

Who of us yearns to hit their aim

When consequence is just the same?


The reminder that you writhe in fear

Each step you take is faked to bear

A hectic world, that needless noise

The herd obsessing with sleek toys,

Take five steps back to reassess

Your role and how you shoulder stress

You’ll find most tasks ostensible

(Paraded by a crippling whole).

This gold we seek flows inwardly

Then penetrates the cold abyss

Through moments of ecstatic bliss.


A Taxing Tranquility


Drifting in mid-air without a stable care

Below this world seems frightening, perplexingly enticing.

The gift of years yet to impress

Grand schemes upon a solid slate

Make use of fruit you have to bear

Before good pulp depreciates,

Squished out of shape and unaware

Of qualms our aims may satiate

We hover in a hollow haze

Too ashamed to address

A meager life of raw regress.




There is a fix, in smooth descent

From lofty goals of null assent

To fewer wants and wholesome needs

A steady path will let you breathe



A touch of grace, a touch of flair

Sublime is that which keeps you here,

Unfinished ties to Earthly woes

You are the only soul who knows

Your way to virtue.

A Life Meandered


How much is real, how much imagined?

I see a life as one great tangent.

Swayed by diamonds near and far

We stumble through this grand bazaar

– You clutch a jewel, it falls apart –

The fragments glazed in sullied gold

Reassemble, twist and fold,

Beget a better dream to chase

What value has time left to waste?


Inspired by what scares us most

We toss and turn, live and learn

Stake our claim on goods unearned,

Before some certain pain and strife

Unfolds, dumb fear will swell to life

A fearsome scourge to gauge foresight,

To pass one must abandon choice

So grant your inner will its voice

The road not taken irks no heart

Who has rare strength to make a start.


New associations, new determinations,

Ending strangulations,

Your peace requires patience.

The Apology


I rest here, on trite fears

While millions starve, some die awake

Then billions claim no move to make

“It’s not my fault, no one’s in charge”,

So who will mend our worldly ills?

Not I, there is no time to kill

Not I, my worth exceeds goodwill.

What noble way of life is this?

What self-conceited lie is this?


I lie bare, with scant care

For lives no different from my own

Adrift in time and space and face

Yet sharing social aspect sewn

Through banal acts, ideas retraced

If only we could make it known:

That damning void which warps our pace

By faith in man can be outgrown.


In moral ways I’m remonstrated

A lack of purpose demonstrated

With loveless dreams which ooze and tease

Happy glimpses hard to seize,

So here I bid to start anew

Wrong actions skew your point of view,

One life in search of what is Great

Is all I need to right my fate.

End of the Road


With no account of wasted time

Though left for dead and past his prime

He pawed at laws we strain to see

(Twice the soul we’d rather be),

To quell the haunting howl of hope

Evokes this sentimental slope:

To stay saves neither him nor thee

To go, shy tears, his home shall be

No more.


Such short success; no time to rest

His fate awaits in humble dress,

But each plot placed against the grain

Resuscitates a paltry pain

(Some selfish joys to confess)


The past which seemed so present

Slinks back into rogue desert

Then like our moon; that winking eye

His life force wanes; he chokes a sigh

Absolved by clear endearing sky,

Where he lies now we have no clue

Though rest assured, he lives through you.

A Short Ode to the Countryside


Take me far away from here

To where the sun falls late and cool streams run clear,

Quaint townsfolk graced with a comforting air

Greet you with pleasure each day of the year.


The grass is always better

Where wild cattle graze unfettered,

The sweet scent of pine suits me just fine

As our fragrant dreams are untethered.


Reveal to me that place you love

Just south of the river but known only to one,

Where the birds and the bees make way for real needs

Spooked by dominant peaks poised above.


Procure for me one hint of gold

Beyond a system that’s rigged on sick sorrows of old,

When the duel of ideas is conquered by fear

We escape to create a new mould.

Waiting Patiently for Death


Once more that filthy sense of dread

Creeps up your spine from heel to head

As all you crave is love returned

By now you’ve learned you’re always spurned,

This plight infects the greatest men

They too perceive our hope as sin

The tragedy of phantasy: the unkempt mediocrities

None of us are ready.


Years pilfered by our TV screens

Who are you now? Where have you been?

Malignant shades of slivered time

– the days, the weeks, the months float by –

Not once occurs the question: WHY?

Wanting more but reaping less

Afraid to live we cling to death.


A symphony of questions; the calamity of answers

Somewhere lies the melody; interspersed with enmity

So open wide that feckless shell

And ponder here your living hell…


How does one ‘stop’ without a start?

How does one choose from worlds apart?

Why live when love arouses jest?

How does one trust a failing heart?

So why not claim eternal rest?

Why seek to solve such grand abstractions

When all we glean are rough extractions?


Waiting patiently for death

We hoard our fears within a nest

Of fickle wants and swollen cares

When schemes we weave begin to tear…

When each path grazes mass despair…

The life you leave is your nightmare.