The Dark-Eyed Goddess

Grace in step, from heaven beam the eye

All the world, may seem but fit to lie

In sullen ground, to wax a child’s cry

Yet lift above, to reach a woman’s smile


Ring no bells, no favour or duty holds

Her earnest gift, from creditor who folds

His modest back, in manners civilization told

From desert springs, flooded basin of the Nile


An image ideal, crushes in colossal glare

From Medusa turns, mortal failings in seething lair

Wrothful indulgence, rotting when exposed to air

Whited sepulchre, in a moment seeps all the vile


Cross abandoned, pallor sleep of no dreaming

Boring disillusion, a pit of precision reaming

A glancing mirror, holds with horrors teeming

So start again, build the mosaic tile by tile


Polite connection, modest persistence accumulates

Tapestry expansion, nexus grows from particulate

Fitting attraction, select complex and appreciate

Sudden achievement, plucked from attrition’s pile


Can furnace flame, sustain for lifetime gain

In temperate action, renew after gale and rain

Widen and wane, no moment burning the same

But shape unique; strengthen spirit in all her wile


Creation As Destruction (prompted by Cubby)

If I had the power of creation

Strength borrowed from destruction

No one would be safe

From perfection’s restless chafe


If more knowledge than can be read

I had stored up within my head

No one would be heard

For mine would be the word


And all of life’s plan-less beauty

Would fold in ordered serenity

I would lend enough hope

To support the hanging rope


This poem was inspired and prompted by Cubby at

Cubby blogs at

Thomas Cole’s The Voyage of Life



From darkened cave a sturdy boat emerges

Its jagged shapes and primal forms behind

An infant’s joy towards flowering world surges

A gentle angel guides his opening mind



The stream widens as the angel stands nearby

The world a garden, horizon’s glittering prize

The adolescent gleams utopia in his eye

To rush with pardon, diversion of the wise



Crashing waves career impermanent boat

Lost to storm, a grown man seeking grace

In the faintest light, the thinnest winter coat

For tribulations that angels dare not face


Old Age

To gentle ocean the old man achieved his way

In grateful tranquil, his fortune angels prayed

Shows the glowing comforts accompanying decay

To hard earned heaven a restful mind may stay


This poem is inspired and based upon Thomas Cole’s series of paintings collectively known as The Voyage of Life. I have reproduced the pictures from the Wikipedia page where you can learn more about it – http:\\


A quiet late evening alone, but not lonely

Consolation and worth discovered in memory

Life’s fleeting commitments, friends in lieu

Solitary habits shaded with a wider hue


We sat in a small kitchen, closed from the world’s hubbub

Work’s meaningless passing, food for soul and for gut

Conspiring to pass the day, conversation unworthy of pub

Some believe in the spiritual, I know only the human rut


From a chaotic life of the trivial, she would set down her phone

I’d summon a courage for speaking, sympathetically hear thoughts roam

Refreshed we’d return to working, spirits lifted from where they’d been thrown

Sometimes we’d head home together, parting smile platonically shown


I’d didn’t tell you the comfort of your gaze

I did tell you how you amazed

What you didn’t tell me I can’t know

But women like you have a special way to show

Up The Down Escalator

Time is measured by the progress of decay

The falling hand of an unwinding clock

The arrow of time points entropy’s way

Osmosis of sand, wind’s unbuilding blocks


Life is defined as that which self-sustains

Resources consumed, repair and renew

Survival refined on a pathway restrained

Order imbued on structures made new


To turn back the clock, life battles time

We cheer the defeated, the hero fallen

To retrieve the treasure, earned in prime

And remake the shelter, the city walled in

Broken Wings prompted by Reowr

Tread lightly on my broken wings

Now pitiful but once were proud

At heaven’s gate once to sing

Unto fire now bound and cowed


Success is but a frail thing

Slips and slides once come unstuck

If bells of warning do not ring

Fear the storm which sudden struck


When paupers sup with fallen king

They accept him as their own

Knowing fortune is a fleeting thing

A thousands chairs for every throne


Inspired by post by Reowr at

Reowr blogs at

Temporary Life

Phone call, drop ball, forget all, mutter drawl, swallow gall, spirit fall, once again

Get hired, jump higher, get fired, bent wire, soon tire, accept mire, try again

Think straight, inchoate hate, life waits, accept fate, rusted gate, opened late, nowhere again

Do this, can’t miss, take piss, invite hiss, failure’s kiss, dignity sift, yet again

Come rain, same drain, still lain, can’t explain, no pain, just tame, same again

Need respect, introspect, retrospect, don’t expect, above deck, earned check, ever again

Given hope, enough rope, grip soap, self elope, don’t mope, play dope, then again

Final fit, rage quit, open pit, bed sit, swallow bit, dead wit, that’s it