Poetry

Careless

For years, we smelled smoke. The facade was on fire, still measurements went un-taken. Flames carelessly set by those who ignited lives as if humans were candles. The bent spoons and broken bowls courted cracked cups? Many lessons floated yet the education was swatted away…

Poetry

I Will Stop Loving You

  When the sun doesn’t shine And dreams are no longer mine When hopes run out And volcanoes no longer shout When all the oceans become dry And you count all the stars in the sky When all the trees’ leaves wither And the earth…

Poetry

Winter Warriors

I have examined the night sky. Seen appear the moon, stars, and meteors. During winter’s freeze, Orion, lost in Crete, stands tall, his belt tight, against his waist, hosting the seven sisters , glowing, – Pleiades, bright. And to the North we view Perseus, holding…

Prose

Nostalgia

We all ran the corridors together to make sure we were always ahead of the headmaster. If one did get caught, we all took the blame being ready to be held accountable for every one’s mistakes. This unity is something I was willing to give…

Poetry

The Fire

  In the cooling air of the lingering dusk, the flames from the fire-pit clawed higher The steps to the wood-rack, heavy and slow, retrieving more fuel for the pyre Each log, as it’s placed, sends bright sparks in the air, chasing tendrils of wispy…

Prose

To My Brother In Heaven

Dear Brother, Some may say it is unwise of me to write a letter to you when you are somewhere this letter cannot reach, but there are things I want to tell you, show you and talk to you about. Life has never been an…

Poetry

Golden Giant

Who is sitting in the heavens and staring at me? Who is sitting in the golden palace of tomorrow? Who is smiling? Golden staff in his hand flashes a dazzling light. Ah, the flashes of lightning- interweave over my head… I walked into the crystalline…

Poetry

Ode to the Discarded

While sitting on the curb, I see a rusty old bolt laying on the pavement.   I pick it up, turn it and feel its heft, its cold edges, My fingers now stained orange.   I run fingertips over threads still sharp, not stripped.  …