Curbside (In Senryu)

love’s gaze lingered far
from the curb, dark hair flowing
your eyes found me there

your body trembled
lips quivered ‘yes’ for a kiss
hearts and souls melted

© Poetry from the Inkwell 2018


We’ll Be Flying at an Altitude of 24,000 Feet (that’s a lot of toes)

i’m looking
on postage stamps
adorning the corners
on large parcels
of land that won’t
fit in the mail slot
(or in cargo)
where shades are
fences demarcating
borders without keeping
anything out or in
and wind-lop –
on otherwise lazy lakes –
resembles mid-October
snow squalls

i’m looking for
crop circles
but see only
circles in crops
already harvested
and drying beds
along dying rivers
demoted already
to tributaries
(but climate change is
a Chinese hoax –
to borrow someone’s words)
that won’t live
long enough
to meet anyone’s ocean

i’m looking
for a movie to
watch instead
of talking to
the guy drooling near
my shoulder or
making eye contact
with the lady
wearing enough blue
eye shadow
to colour an ocean
to embrace that river –
the one already a
hundred miles behind us –
but i’ve seen
Ocean’s (insert some over-inflated
number here) – besides
i thought Bullock was
far better in
that space film that
reminded me of
that movie where
that guy was
best friends
with a volleyball

i’m looking to
land, unscathed
and lose myself
in mountains and
a smile i’ve only
been waiting three
years to

© Poetry from the Inkwell 2018

Another Saturday Night…Wait, I Mean Sunday… Wait, What Day Is it Again?

i catch
glimpses of sanity
between reality tv
commercials where
presidents pretend to
know numbers
and other stuff
and i’m Jerry or
Superman and you’re
Elaine or Lois Lane
depending on the channel
and the orbit of
beer stoppers around
an empty nacho plate
just before falling
asleep to dreams
of out smart-assing
Trebek in a battle
of wits…

but this is all
so trivial and
certainly not worth
writing about

© Poetry from the Inkwell 2018

Grapes at 4 AM

when you woke me
at 4 AM
to tell me
you couldn’t sleep
and we danced
between sheets
until the duvet
rested quietly
at our feet

when i fed you
chilled to
cool bodies
after hours of passion
and your lips
tugged at my finger
as your dark
hazel eyes
filled with
autumn passion
asked for more

how i want
to feed you
until all the vines
in the world
are empty

© Poetry from the Inkwell 2018

A Shift in Focus

calgary sunrise cmpsd contrast

i’m an ocean boy
have always been
to its ebb and flow
watching sun
rise to caress
the Bow
trace its curves
with warm tendrils
of light
and then burst
through the window
to kiss your
naked peaks
has left me, forever
about the mountains

© Poetry from the Inkwell 2018