Sunday, May 04, 2014


On a table of roulette a fast feast has been laid
the famished are being offered an enticing bait
by means of the wheel spin a spurious promise
losers who eat with eyes are a subject of tease
until they are wiped out as the oracle could tell
predicting just about all that is about to prevail
when bettors push their luck they end up in jail
compulsive gamblers only have their soul to sell.


Some worshippers have their faith well polished
as they tend to prayers to wash away their sins
with hands raised up, whisper through tight lips 
not comprehending the gist of what this means.

Most believers are waning, wanting & begging
only few are humbly thankful, simply affirming
there is the odd vindicator ranting and cursing
demanding satisfaction, grudgingly grumbling.

I am not a worshipper, neither a set believer
the only faith I have is in seeking an answer
my quest is sharp focused, I'll not be fooled
I plea ignorance, unless otherwise assured.


When hands scribble and doodle often, casually
without any conscious direction, unintentionally
like chewing one's fingernails, blinking the eyes
a compulsive habit, automatic, instincts alerted.
Streaming visions pour out of the subconscious
cellular memory in endorsing the genetic print
is illuminating hidden aspects, conjuring a hint.


Thursday, May 01, 2014


Like a black hole at the heart of an atom
your paradise is a slippery slope to hell
I can tell because I more than once fell
but was rescued in the nick of the bell
what life has in store, I can never tell
I desire no more but wish you well.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014


An old friend had a massive heart attack
they called me from the hospital, I rushed
he was a heavy smoker, they had to bypass
he looked pale and exhausted, worried I was

'Is there anything I can do for you''.…. I asked
'get me a cigarette' he pleaded, 'I am dying for one'
the following poem was inspired by such a remark.

The contrast between
high thinking and low living
measured in cigarette butts,
meanwhile time is running in
and running out…
In & out, in & out 
In ironic opposition
things are evolving
after all he's still breathing
and smoking and kicking
the king of the time being
will soon be choking!.
As we sit and stare
at time running out
one more cigarette
is what this is all about,
we do not have to
rave and shout
but on this issue
we have no doubt
that if he quits
he is in
or else
he is out!.

Monday, April 28, 2014


Ardor is subtle when taken alertly
with purity,virtuously, full heartedly
alongside passion come vulnerability
should it crumble there will be no pity
romance in bloom, such is pure delight
must cherish beloved, hold on to it tight
faith is delicate can be obstructed by fate
so intense yet fragile, should treat it right.