Beyond borders

South of the equator,
In a land
Dark and
Barren far
Away from the Sun
Lies my heart
Parched and gasping
Sinking with
Each breath
Into Sheol.

Seedlings

When the first shoot forced its

Way out the soft wet soil, summer

Arrived; breezy,

Burning brightly 

Brutally snuffed by cold

Winter winds

Hardening the soil

Killing the tenderlings. 

audience of one

The air is alive with the scent of sweaty bodies
Mixed with heady anticipation; I see it
clearly in my mind;
the image floats in front of the words –
sensory words conceived for the stage
birthed to capture hearts.

The roar of the enraptured crowd wafts to me in muted tones
Right here – backstage,
Struggling with the melody
Losing hope with each chime
Of passing time

Amidst the din and blinding spotlight
I see your face –
Centre stage, front row –
Eyes closed,
Lips moving in sync

On your lips
I find the words.
This poem, the rhythm
This melody, the cadence
Is really for an audience
Of one

troubled waters

troubled waters bring mud
to the surface
shuts out the sun’s rays
my soul shivers.

my soul hovers over the pool
at Bethesda, and watches the murky
waters deliver my dreams to another.

peace ripples the cogitations of my soul
speaks stillness to the entropy.

dreams do not stay tranquil
alive, they kick
trouble the waters.

my soul is murky
sedimented dreams rise to the
surface, shuts out the sun.
I shiver.

state of fear

The wind whispers harshly to me:
Doomsday is coming.
Noah walks barefooted in Reykjavik
Prophesies:
Glaciers trembles at the wrath of Sol
Running amok in holes
In stratosphere

History is a never ending cycle
Crichton scoffs:
Fear is Morphia
Fear births more fear
Mass hysteria:
fickle minds high on fumes
of chlorofluorocarbon

Silver is dross
Judas is cross
The price of a soul
Has appreciated at the
Stock market
Sells for gold coins –
Thirty pieces

Thirty degrees in Oslo
The wrath of Poseidon
Waxes hot
Ice floats on fire
Fire ends the world.