Writer’s Block

Time, fleeting, desperately short.
Never seeming to have enough,
no time left for self.
Minutes stolen as a breather,
Gasping for air,
trying to find a moment.

Time, dragging,
going slower...
No break from the monotony,
Time slows,
becoming solid
When will it end?


Rumours

Rumours fly, like birds
on the wing. Faster than light,
knifing through the night.

Bargains

Self-Respect for sale
Cheap, to the lowest bidder;
only one owner.

Lies

Trippingly they fall,
Lightly from the tongue they spring
bringing dishonor.

Whirling, spinning,
the whirlwind roars,
challenging all before it.

A churning mass,
built of sorrow, of loss,
of hope, and of joy.

The tugging of heartstrings,
being pulled by something,
something not felt in ages.

Spun around a spindle,
made of pure emotion
and life.

Can you tame the whirlwind?
Can you ride the tempest?
When your heart is being torn,
Swirled into oblivion,
can you master the storm
before it consumes you?

Rolling on, the sea swells,
tossing, turning,
an unsettled surface,
leaving you adrift.
Tempest tossed,
the ship tumbles,
spun and battered
by the shifting currents.
Uncertainty rises,
removing equilibrium,
upsetting the balance,
and bringing the sea to dry land.
Confusion,
Frustration,
Fear,
Change.
These are the voices,
that cry in the depths of the soul.
Leaving the mind befuddled,
and lost.
When the heart cries out,
begging for stability,
the deep currents of displacement
upset the ship of the mind.
And toss it,
leaving certainty in its wake,
and setting the soul to doubt,
even the strong grow queasy.

Greenery abounds,
Damp heat nigh unto steam-bath;
Florida Summer

Kudzu envelopes,
winding through trees and bushes;
Covering in green.

Summer storms approach
thunder rolling across skies,
grey with sound and fury.