Full Circle.

People have told me that poems don't always have to rhyme, they don't always have to follow the rules of grammar. If there are enough words to form a picture in someone's head, it's enough. I beg to differ. Poems need a kind of magic within them. A flow of words, organized as a whole …

Fire has such an appeal.

Fire has such an appeal. When you turn off the lamp,And look at the fireplace,The flames wafting,Licking,Twisting,Among the logs. When you close your eyes,And hear the moisture,That hisses,Pops,Cracks,As it boils to the surface. And then you notice the smell,Citrusy Pine,Sweet hickory,Mixing and making love.The warmth engulfing everything,Including you. Fire has such an appeal.Even as it …

They Speak to Me.

Dark figures speak to me,In inky words with no cause.Flowing out in garbled spurts,From their bloody grisly jaws. Jaws? No, they're not simply that Bloody chasms, they are dark,Pouring toxins, strange poisons.The soul-killer curses, they bark! Their pricking words haunt me, In paradoxes of fiddly thoughts,They splatter me with filth,The grime of unclear doubts, Their …