Written in 1983 .. inspired by the cover of my copy of Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury.
He stands alone
in a field
of grass
and flowers.
Pants, too big,
hang from
brown suspenders.
Solemn,
in his face.
Is the boy sad?
Is the boy lonely?
Alone, he stands
in a field
of bombs
and flowers.
Who will help
him now?
This poem was an experiment … pushing my comfort level with expressing sexual desire. It was written February 20, 1991. Let my lips enfold you like petals about the stamen Let my hand caress you like the ocean caresses the shore Let my eye behold you more beautiful than a Rembrandt Your touch is like…
This was written May 18, 1984. I stand alone, as I always will. Friends come and go, but all the while I stand alone. Just a molecule of air, am I, tossed about by the wind. I see, and know, and love others but they go and I see, know and love more. Always there…
On October 13, 1982, my diary entry consisted of mostly a poem. I now share with you that entry. Just F.Y.I.: each diary was given a name. For my Junior year in High School, my diary was named Duval, after a guy I liked the previous year. He died his senior year in a terrible…
These two limericks were written in my diary on April 19, 1981. Yes, I am aware they don’t make much sense. 😉 There once was a very cool cot Who was always smoking pot He was so high He thought he could fly But now he is forgot Many people don’t know if Or why…
Written in 1983. Home is where the heart is, I hear people say. But home is something much more. Home is where the joy is. Home is the constant happiness in a changing, hurting world. But I left Home long ago. A Home of grass lands and animals. A Home of many colours in many…
Written in 1983. Wastepaper basket filled to the brim with wads of fresh, new paper. Desk cluttered with paper, ink and pencils. A slumped figure snores over a sheet of paper. The words “Once upon a time . . .” are scribbled out on the top line. Looking closer at the wads in the basket,…
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