The blackness of death,
darkness of night,
nothing of life.
You and your thoughts,
me and my thoughts,
them and their thoughts.
I can’t ignore them now,
a deeper grave,
the harder I resist.
Silence of the night,
a constant tick,
we choose to dismiss.
Loud and clear,
enticing the grip,
of my heart and soul.
Occupied with noise,
what and when,
rather than why and how.
Sleepless nights,
waves of insecurity,
among a sea of doubt.
No answers yet,
we will come,
and we will go.
A watercolor painting I recently completed, inspired by the sacrifice and fabric of what this great nation was built upon.
The four-legged table,
stands alone.
Barely upright,
skinny legs bruised but strong.
Desires shared,
feelings disguised,
emotions poured,
hopes soured.
Above all,
the four-legged table still stands.
Minds faded inside our own devices,
hearts exposed beneath layers of sadness,
emotions cropped for those around us.
Begging for acceptance in a view framed by others,
feelings shared for all to see but none who care.
A paper-thin disguise,
slowly torn by the numbing pain of loneliness,
blinded by the shallow lens of approval.
Pushed, pulled, exposed and examined,
guarded against any appeal for love and embrace.
Fearful of the darkness beyond the gallows,
erected by the deceit of others,
afraid of its lonesome shadows.
Seclusion, aggression, obsession and suppression,
enslaved by the heavy chains of acceptance.
Her voice gentle on my mind,
her skin warm to my embrace.
Her endless gaze,
a peek inside her beautiful heart.
Her aroma lingers on my mind,
her lips sweet to my embrace.
1959 Ford Fairlane Galaxie 500 Skyliner
Main Street in beautiful Beacon, NY
An early afternoon photograph of the park landscape, a powerful contrast between sculpture and foliage.
Poetry in Motion 