Hour 24 (2020)

Out of nothing

to take the ethereal and bind it to paper.

to replicate rawness

manifest beauty and tragedy

and to bind in even a miniscule way

a mutual impact shared amongst those who read

is the greatest gift we all possess.

Hour 23 (2020)

a mort is a fellow

whose colored bright yellow

he sports a loud bellow

and drinks limoncello

he sits on my porch

with his liquor and borscht

and scorches my visitors with a blowtorch

Hour 22 (2020)

through the wet rocks

on to the sand

the island’s landing

to the center

the island’s portal

into the wet rocks

on to the sand

the island’s landing

to the center

the island’s portal

stand outstretched, bathed in sun

until the day is done

without sun the cycle trudges on

Hour 21 (2020)

release from the clutches of consciousness

into slumber:

the glistening black void that rests the body

that ends constant tire and dishevelement.

When the words no longer have to fall clumsily on to the monitor

but can flow freely beyond meaning and recognition


Hour 20 (2020)

flickering led candles

sustained by lithium cores

illuminate bamboo buddha

draw out his features

carvings, faiding in and out of focus

consciousness, faiding in and out of awareness


Hour 19 (2020)

A cog in the war machine, a link in the chain

A drop in the canteen or one in the rain

A petal in the daisy, a ray in the sun

In each case the many come together as one

Hour 18 (2020)


a sea of maroon and orange robes

incense smoke wafts through the sky

chanting imprints on the mind

step by step in mindfullness

soft feet against sprawling carpet

tales of the dhamma spun beneath

clarity above

Hour 17 (2020)

B.B. King – Live at the Regal

a wine colored vynl sticks out of my shelfs multicolored media jungle

its printed in big letters beneath

in red hot motion:

the blues messiah, guitar slung over one shoulder

belting out pure sorrow

embellished by yelping sax

under the crackle and pop that coats the soundscape

when finally: BEAAM

the guitar sings out in smooth lamentation.

unbridled sonic voodooo

unleashed on my unkept bedroom

Hour 16 (2020)

bodies converging

through the hopelessly entangled web

of furtive glances,

coffee shop catastrophes,

crashing crescendos of passion and negliegence

melancholy and softness

harshness and rage;

a deranged drama that unravels us

piece by aching piece – –

yet we keep hungrily pursuing the next act

chasing phantoms of our collective expectations

hoping for something real

somebody real

that we may feel the unified beating of emboldened hearts and honest souls:

unique fragments becoming a whole:

the crux of our lives

Hour 15 (2020)

Take off through the clouds

dipped in honey yellows and flamingo pinks

the aeroplane a white swan diving into a pond of spectral delights

the beauty of human invention on the outside

turmoil on the inside:

spilled drinks, extended seats, crying toddlers.

oh to be the swan and not the passenger!

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