It’s not easy writing flowery prose, uplifting thoughts avoid my mind, when I spend my days looking down my nose. Not down at you, or you, or even you, down at the self, within my mind wherein I reside, wishing I were you. There is beauty and charm I can see, this graces your smile,…

I sensed you were near but I could not see you, I could not hear you, the warmth of your hug did not stir my soul, your insight into the human condition did not engage me – that day. Still, something, perhaps an undeveloped sixth sense, a probe into the twilight of my existence, something……

I am not Anne I have never claimed to be nothing more than I am. Usually I claim less unless forced to confess I willingly give up my name. Only once was I insane but if you ask my brothers they will say I never got off the train. They who are farmers, adulterers, and…

You see a homeless bum, when you look at me incapable of love, living on the street. A fallen man living off your trash A lazy buggar begging a buck I scare your wife on her Sunday drive You tell your kids ‘be good or you’ll be like him’. But it’s you, your kind –…

A dreary day for love and lovers – this cold and wet Valentines Day; Sitting alone, glancing at each other, both hoping the other will not go away. The banners and signs all bright and pink, they’re supposed to make us feel better; As I sit here alone, I wonder, I think, just how much…

Little firefly of the summer night, why do you want to die. Are you not content enough to be the dinner for late birds and early bats, with their radar eyes. No, not content enough. You sweep low over the lawns of bored summer boys, then with a flash of green, you signal your presence…

How did it happen that I should meet you! They all thought you were smarter than that. Did you waste your Daddy’s money on your education? I live in societies deathwatch. Come on in, Let me have this dance. Come on in, you can change the world from the inside out. Come on in, you…

nothing, not even one, one is something. less than infinity but never ending, it is not nothing. is nothing real? can you touch nothing? by touching nothing there is created a reality of something. i might proclaim, “I have nothing.” i have more more than that, i have the thought intangible, but something. nothing is…

Everyone I know is so unlike you, a small knit in the cosmic fabric blending and shaping most of what we call life: You are the single thread that stands out from the pattern. Years ago, I saw such as fine a thread and I tugged at it … the cosmic fabric rippled. My life…

Eight eyes staring at me from ten inches above the ground, Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes – Waiting for me to break down, waiting for my soul to die so they will have something to eat. Overhead, a cardinal sings, long, loud, a pretty song… When I float by it takes to wing. Eight…