What would I be doing today if I’d stopped,just once, all those years agoto glance back at my burning city?Where would I have been yesterday?Where would I be tomorrow?Whose story would I be writing now?Whose life might I be living?Would I still be living at all?I’m powerless to stop these questionsfrom sparking up and ragingContinue reading “What Will Never Be”
Category Archives: Photography
Where Loneliness Gathers
I’ll bet there’s a little karaoke bar on some remote cornerof some godforsaken one stop light townthat looks a lot like the edge of the world,and that there are desperate people gathered there at this very moment, some sitting alone, quietly sipping their foamy beers,contemplating why they are there.Perhaps it’s because they are tired ofContinue reading “Where Loneliness Gathers”
Subzero
There’s an old red bicycle frozen in the snowin front of a little clapboard bungalow at the far end of my street.There’s a thick wool cap on this silly ass head, thermal socks, and heavy boots on these crunching feet.Why, oh why in hell, I ask, did I venture out hereon a morning when IContinue reading “Subzero”
Midnight Ramble
It begins in cold darknessand the thick solitude of a quiet carsplashing through the empty streets of town.Flashing traffic lights, Christmas lights, porch lights left to burn, water streaked vestiges of a brighter world I missed while asleep.This is the time for me. It’s all so clear, a silent symphony of subtle revelations otherwise mutedContinue reading “Midnight Ramble”
Wind
The wind is a feral animal tonight,moaning, circling, lashing out –random acts of violence in our midst. The little lights on the front porchrock about maniacally, glittering against the glass,a ghostly mirror ball inviting us to danceto the wind chimes chilling melody. The dog barks incessantly,issuing stern warnings to the invisible intruder.Perhaps she is tellingContinue reading “Wind”
Your Former Self Calling
Empty out the past.Hold fast to tangible things. Give up the ghoststhat haunt these silent rooms. Give up your reasonsfor not turning back toward that distant landof high hopes and deserted dreams. Easy to say, it’s true,never so easy to do, and this is why I’m calling you.“Wake up, wake up! Begin again.”
Where It Happened
I pass that place nearly every dayon my way to someplace else –once the home of a woman and her young childuntil they were senselessly murdered one nightby someone they may have trusted. A plaque and banner face the streetdisplaying the names of the two victims,“gone but not forgotten.”The balloons and stuffed toys, however, haveContinue reading “Where It Happened”
Inside Out
Draining the last of my coffee, I glance up at the big silent clock hung high on the wall, its spidery black hands creepingwith unseen velocity towards 4 a.m. I sit and watch my remaining minutes bleed out in a pool of luminous silver while corporate propaganda videos drone onin loops to the bare coolContinue reading “Inside Out”
Telepharma
Woke to the sound of rolling thunder,eaves dripping softly outsidethe bedroom window, and something else,strange murmurs from another room –a chattering television left on,peddling drugs again;pretty pills with pretty names,warm lighting, and sunny actors to sell them.Then the disclosures; an obligatory listof potential horrific side effects.Drugs for everything but no cures.Drugs for everything but theContinue reading “Telepharma”
Some Distant Dream
I walked there oncein some distant dream,or was it a childhood reality?That trampled paththrough a fragrant fieldtousled by the winds of summer,sunlight on my faceas warm as a memoryof simpler timesthat perhaps never were.
Dreams Of Motion
Another muddy spring in a dead-end town.From the old Victorian on the hill, it’s possible to glean a brighter perspectiveas the blood-red tulips in the gardendrip their dew at your feet.Enter the gated woods.Follow the path to the overlook.Far below, the little toy town, perfectly quiet and still,morning fog lifting its veilover the grey greenContinue reading “Dreams Of Motion”
Into The Grey
Into the cold misty woodsand iron light of morning,tunneling through a ghostly grey,a cacophony of bird song,soggy footfalls –the delirious crescendo of an intrepid heartthundering through the gloom.
Haunted Avenues 