Friday, 24 February 2012

A poet,

 lost in words, sits on a train’s
deluded rails that seem to converge
like wrinkles on his hands and face
 - before and back - through time and space.

Avoiding headlines
but chasing a hunt
for every letter
 - like sperm - in word - and sound.

Riding rails,
narrow minded,
cliché trip
up a track:

wondering and gazing,
secretly alive

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

One morning, lost, he

sits exhausted in an airport
hoping for a pretty sky;
hearing words from nations’ update,
jumble into purple sky.

Every word intends connection
- hopeful – casting line and fly.
Once outspoken, lost in motion,
kisses in a pretty sky.

Sunday, 19 February 2012


When the world's abundant
I pick the flower, yes.

When the world’s connected,
I reach for a handshake, yes.

When the world is loving,
I hug the answer yes.

When the world’s deciding,
I bet the answer yes.

When the world is dawning,
look up, the answer’s yes.

When the world is learning,
sorry, the answer’s yes.

When the world is teasing,
yes, the answer’s yes.