I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)

They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.

7 July 2012


Pain gives you
clarity — this is
what matters, the
only thing. This
is what it all comes
down to at last.

All those
noble thoughts,
true friendships, love,
art and nature, all
those causes, things
you voted for....

This abject animal,
your body, knows
all that is nothing.
All you want
shrinks. Just to
be free, at the end.


  1. dang...hard read....at least pain reminds you that you are alive one more day....guess that could be good or bad...