Category: Poetry

The Naked Bones

flicker.com “It was Salvador Dalí who said the red wine of Cadaqués has the bitter taste of tears.” ― Clifford Thurlow, Sex, Surrealism, Dali And Me Shadows undulate on cloistered walls,phantoms unveiled in sultry candlelightas the wax drips down another empty vesselit leaves a milky puddle where… Continue Reading “The Naked Bones”

Haibun: Voices of Autumn

Photo by form PxHere Golden pink-tinged light colors my bedroom as it peeks through the sliver in the drapes. Stirring from a deep sleep, it is not yet six am as the house is cold and the heater has not come on.Welcome to fall in Arizona-… Continue Reading “Haibun: Voices of Autumn”

Under the Color of Night

“If you tremble with indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine.” ― Ernesto Che Guevara Under the color of night, a full beaver’s moon shineswith an ethereal red bloom obscured in vagrant cloudswhile pristine stars shine through the blood-stained veilwearing their alluring… Continue Reading “Under the Color of Night”

Saved by Grace

“The salvation of man is through love and in love” ― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning There was a moment in my lifewhen quiet hallowed chambersof an old church became my sanctuary. Dusky sunlight fell across a scarred plank floorthrough blood-stained windows where-The body of… Continue Reading “Saved by Grace”

Did I

“How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true; But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face.” ― William Butler Yeats, The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats I carry sorrow in my bones… Continue Reading “Did I”

The Color of Hope is Light

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”  ― Plato Light bending, shaping, flowing into nicks and cracks of darkness impugned Both an unrelenting wave of briny ocean and a… Continue Reading “The Color of Hope is Light”

In Dreams

I dream each night of a small bungalowsomewhere in the French countrysideA place to rest on the shaded verandahto watch my simple life go by. I wrap myself in old cashmereI bought long agoin a quaint Paris brocantenever minding tiny moth holes. I tie… Continue Reading “In Dreams”

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