He Sells Broken Love Songs…

He sells broken love songsat street corners,their skin festering with sores,and scarred with amnesia,lyrics confabulated or just fractured,music borrowed and patchedwith ragged syllables,and notes confused,old bones an osteoporotic sieve,hearts ailing with arrhythmia. He uses an ancient accordionto hum his wareshis voice a quaint cross betweentenor and baritonefrayed at edges and lisping too,he sings off key …

Verses of Winter

Coriander breath sighed by a huddled kitchen warming itself in gasps of frostbitten stove, blends in citrus honeydew realms of a gossamer winter morn. somewhere pea-pods pop out syllables of a sumptuous delight, to flavor insipid moments of bleached twilights. empty vases yearn for daffodil daydreams prematurely spawned afore March, eggs Benedicts congeal on frozen …

Lines of a Reborn Dream…

Along flamingo circumference of a blossoming morn, lingers like silver remnant moon a withered dream~ reminiscent of fallen flowers of saffron-sublime hursinghars or a fish stranded ashore ~dead and forgotten, She picks it up in her caress salving its sores with honeyed syllables of hope, singing nurturing rhapsodies sequined in photons, as a fledgling with …

An November Morning

An orphaned moon lingers as an un-wiped tear on bland brim of ughten, as night blends into nothing~ scattering night-jasmines on the bosom of sleeping earth. azaleas, carnations n' orchids, blossom is fragrant celestial bowers on sapphire clarities, a perplexed sun awakens with aureate yawn pulling flimsy curtains of candyfloss clouds. morning breeze sprinkles dewdrops …

Café au lait moments…

café au lait moments frothy, bittersweet and creamy flavored in variegated thoughts peppered in sugar granules blending with moody coffee spoonfuls ~are whispers of a carefree youth when thoughts hopscotched through redolent sunshine and rain-song laced rainbows, playing peek-a-boo through oriels of intrigue and adventure, casting dices in virgin oblivion to challenge uncertain fate, letting …

Dusk to Dawn…

amethyst skies at crepuscular hour are reflected on sapphire waters, as epistles of poetic calligraphy resonating with versatile hues, when the topaz sun is gobbled as mandarin morsel and periwinkle heights pantomime a giant chrysoberyl, of oxymoron shades soon blending into an obsidian night. the opal moon ailing with insomnia pours over ivory, printed volumes, …

Poetry is…

Poetry is a stargazer~ admiring constellations through telescopic metaphorical adjectives, gathering stardust on fingertips addicted to printed word, having verbs and nouns sticking to them like ink, and clutching a singed symphony fallen from flaming comet-tails. Poetry is a painter~ playing with consonant pastels, watercolors blossom on the canvas of reality, using the crayons of …

Summer’s Mischief

Summer is a juvenile boy, hopscotching with pebbles on afternoons strewn in quixotic cricket's rhapsodies, and butterflies fluttering salsa delights, He scatters and gathers moments like sparkling marbles, winking in honeyed sunshine~ wearing a hat pinned in sunflowers he guffaws his laughter to flower into mustard blossoms. On hibiscus-tinted dawns~ scented in mango blossom verses, …

Winter is An Old Woman…

Winter is an old woman, her face mapped in wrinkles like frostbitten verbs, She sits on her haunches at dawn, gathering citrus-scented dewdrops from grass blades, while painting her dreams as azaleas in watercolors on hydrangea skies. Snowflakes are christmas baubles simpering treacle smiles in the lukewarm sunshine, hung on verdant limbs of frozen pines, …

Enigma of Poetry

withering, burnished thoughts seek to crochet poetry, in the emptiness of solitude pregnant ~like tempestuous skies with raindrop metaphors or a gloaming enceinte with hues. in distant horizons obscure and enigmatic, with many a quixotic tale breathing within, the commonplace, the routine, the rare and the exotic, nature's boudoir and writings of the old, ranting …