I am not

An old school plagiarist

Stealing all that I write

From this life

Obvious to those

Cursed with sight

Funny how I still

Know nothing despite


The writings on the wall

And the many scribbles

In the stalls

Bumping into other thieves

Busy at their theft

Rolling up their sleeves

All of us trying to take a bow

For something we were presented

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Poem – She bangs on the door

With all the desperation and power

Of a young woman trapped in a love gone bad

She bangs on the door

Such energy when released into the universe

Attempts to reach whatever it can and destroy

He feels the vibration coming through the floor


Sitting on the couch

All sound from the world around him blocked

By the music in his ears

The Sound so thick

It is as he is adrift in it

But still the message received by his feet

Is all too clear

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Poem- Powerless

I am watching as my glass

Tips over and melts

Onto the table

Hands on the clock spinning

A translucent blur

As time ceases to exist


The roof lifts and breaks away

Escaping this place

Floor falls suddenly unattached

Appearing smaller until

It gone from my sight

Now left staring  at my feet


Somehow hovering over

What now appears to be a darkened sky

Holding arms out from my sides

I slowly and softly rotate

Eyes closed tight

Air feels good upon my face

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