How time spirals outward like the sea,
And breaks, divides upon the lea
As smaller eddies ripple docks;
The stuff of time, tides and clocks.
...
My poor soul; afraid to look-
Thinks he's read me, closed the book,
Moved on now, to brighter things-
But no one's told my heart- it sings.
...
It is said that man
Gives half his heart away;
While woman merely saves one part-
For a rainy day.
...
She is not embedded in this room, but she still lives here
Her reflections gathering back upon the wood like happy birds,
Flocking to a bird meeting in some tree; and though no tales are told
Histories are entrenched in scars and tack holes,
...
The world is dimensional and nothing sees through it;
The walls too opaque, and then time runs away,
Off over the edges and pools there at midnight,
The hour always late or else way much too late.
...
She waited in the hallway,
She waited in the den;
Waiting and time crossed its arms
Just like she would wait for a friend.
...
Love poems for sale; they're slightly used,
And birthday poems for free-
Though slightly hexed by some old witch
(I think that would be me)
...
In the center of my eye's a small guillotine-
See- if you squint, you can sometimes see the frame.
In my brain’s the morgue, where the warm ones brought,
Sans heads, after the foul deed's done.
...
She loved little children
But could never have any of her own-
I picture her now in gardens of cherubs
Tenderly twining her with silken ribbons;
...