Here we begin, our challenge awaits A marathon of words, thoughts, ideas, beliefs Let the chaos begin! Good luck and Godspeed!  

Sometimes I wish I could melt like ice And then freeze back together To form a new shape. Then when things got too hot I could take a different shape And start again.

I stand at the shore Waving my hand To those who Have embarked on The journey I am not invited Like quicksilver, Their smiles, faces, Voices, hands, mannerisms Disappear into the fog, Toward sunrise, sunset, Rise up to the stars Of the navy night sky….

“Russian Spy Lady” She checked out, clairvoyantly, books about cooking and Russian history, sixteen dollars in overdue fines, and left as quick as the bells on the front door handle ceased chiming. Without and accent, Rosalind Russell grin; given four weeks, her heels will clap…

You are here and there and everywhere A panic induced nightmare you crave Sweeping throughout your body like a wave Reality ripping and you tear A shedding of your skin and you feel bare Darkness suffocating you like a cave Aching, dying; a Love you…

How do we know what’s truly in our minds? There are innumerable flickers of thoughts through our skull mush, Memories, intuitions, interpretations. Even we, who supposedly own ourselves, Cannot track, cannot contemplate every individual nerve ending and electronic pulse that shoots across our neurons. It…

Beginning   Inception Conception Prelude Start   The pistol has been fired The ball is rolling   There is no going back  

The limbs are tired. Tired are the eyes; for the ears there has been too much sound, too much coloured noise, and tired, too, this endless length of day, this mad chase of sun, moon, breathless wind, arguments of cold and heat, dying stars reborn…

As I lay here I find amusement as I watch you sleep Your eye lashes, thick and long Play peek a boo With eyes unaware, they’re the target Of a gaze from a unloved lover Who longs for the touch, the kiss of pure affection…

Our date by the sea, the restaurant (We are merely a temporary us,) a distraction from what is at last us. You in your slacks, shirt, tie (tempted, separated by a callous hand of fate), not yet, not yet. Not now, you whisper. I in…