Searching For Goodbye
We begin saying goodbye, become distracted by the search through time – attic, relics, the old street, a man …
Previous articles
Among the Stars
Veracity, the rare poetic kind, is the light of a million diamonds, distant, cold, hard, brilliant. This initial light shining …
This Small and Open Place
This small place with its invisible wall and nowhere to stumble on the smooth black streets. How do I …
Tinted Images
Originally posted on Poetry on the run:
I remember tinted images yellow and stained in old wooden frames. The glass was scratched and…
Tracks In Sand
…and whether they are beautiful or not, there will be no one to guard them in the days to come…* …
Axioms
The homey axioms, homeless in age; happy endings with nowhere to return. Gone with memories too shaken to grip the …
The Poet
The words on paper speak solitude, because that is what the poet knows – the only certain knowledge he has. …
Breaking Rules
I see them, not looking away I just look through. One day I break the rule and talk to them. …
Poetry on the run 