Next Year

It’s not easy to write a poem now

I have struggled throughout the morn

It is almost completed, yay

The ending is nearing friends

It has gone well enough

Will I be back?

I sure hope

next year





Baking Periwinkle sourdough bread is life.

Like a needle on the beat, I count down from oven time to eating.

Even the Forest Ranger pops in when he smells the sweet dough air.

Must make sure we have a spread.

What’s your choice?

A Southern Hemisphere Holiday

I love the smell of snow

If only we had it in these parts

It’s dry here

I don’t like the smell of hot cement

In danger of Christmas not being merry

Patiently awaiting the new year.


Soft water gels over your body,

soothing your skin

washing troubles away

you look out to the city and ponder…

What is everyone else doing? I soak here


what troubles are they going through? 

do I care? Am I supposed to care?

I think not

it soothes my skin, this water

just what I needed

I can see my reflection 

almost better than a mirror

it’s wavy 

just like life

there are no straight lines.

She Went Down

She went down 

All the way down. 

Belly up, my belly went down. 

Unsinkable, like my fears. 

I didn’t have time to be scared. 

I went down. 

All the way down. 

Icy water 

Whistles blowing.

She went down, 

All the way down. 

Rich, poor, old and young, 

Their time in heaven was due, 

We all went down 

All the way down, 

Except for a lucky few. 

Not A Normal Poem

I once knew a caterpillar with two heads 

One named Jeff and the other named Geoff 

They would always want to head in different directions, but we’re stuck together 

Like glue on a cold frying pan 

Jeff was ever the optimist. 

He would dream of leaving Geoff and going out on his own 

Finding his own path before evolving into a beautiful butterfly and spreading his wings 

Geoff’s outlook on life was so upbeat 

He didn’t want to be left alone 

He was happy sharing a body with Jeff, but he knew this wasn’t normal 

No other caterpillars had two heads 

Geoff was half responsible for that 

Life wasn’t normal for Jeff and Geoff 

But what would I know? 

I’m a Lizard with two tongues 

Break Free

Bound to a chair, 

Rusty and square. 

It wasn’t always this way.

A box of chocolates; an ode to my favorite movie. 

Break the shackles, 

one foot in front of the other.

It’s my time to break free. 

Bound to no one. 

Bound to no chair. 

Repressed Water Pipe

Burst water pipe,

I never liked water. 

Dig down 

Clink clink 

I stumble on a time capsule; its origins are unknown. 

There is a lone photo inside 

And a poem 

I read the poem first. 


The rest of the top line has been smudged. 

“I’m sorry. You were the light of my life, you gave me life as I gave you yours. I took it away. Maybe we’ll meet some other day, but not too soon.” 

I unravel the faded photo. 

There must have been a leak in the capsule. 

A mother sits with her young daughter on a swing, 

It seems familiar. 

I didn’t keep many photos following… It was too hard. 

They tell me it’s unhealthy to repress memories. 

The water was shallow; I turned for only a brief moment 

She was gone. 

The poem should have read “Dear Margaret, my loving daughter.” 

Time to fix the water pipe. 

I never liked water. 

It’s Hot In Here

The eyes and faces all turned themselves towards me, and guiding myself by them, as by a magical thread, I stepped into the room. 

The room was full of faces reminiscent of the past, each with memories etched into their skin. 

Their skin told tales of the past. 

The past is certain, the future is unknown; that’s what makes it so great. If we knew what was coming next, why would we bother? 

We bother because predictability is often unrewarded, much like my time in this room. 

My time in this room is a reflection. Nostalgia warms the heart, but it comes full of sadness and regret. 

The last line is different; repeating sadness and repeat isn’t healthy; just ask Sylvia. 

Opening line credit: Sylvia Plath (The Bell Jar)

Is It A Plane?

There is a light in the distance, 

Is it a plane? 

I can’t tell if it’s getting closer. 

Is it a plane? 

I imagine being near the light 

Feeling its warmth 

its energy 

Is it Superman? 


That’s silly

Stay focused 

Is it a plane? 

30 minutes have come and gone, 

It hasn’t moved. 

It’s not a plane.