Category Archives: Poetry


Over the Counter, Drugged

Something in your manner, You are

Talking out of both sides of your mouth

About helping me solve my problem (I’ve been in line an hour).

Truthfully, I

Understand you cannot embrace change (Your rules don’t cover my situation).

So hard to hug with thinking cast in stone (1 year’s experience 20 times).

Quoting regulations achieves no

Universal enlightenment (let me restate the issue):


Something in your brushoff. You are

Tired of having things bumped to the next level

Again (call in your manager).

The world often looks the same from my desk

Unless creative thinking is applied

Sometimes (let me see what I can do).

Querulous we often are in our human dealings,

Undermining simple transactions (it’s not my problem).


Image by Alexandros Chatzidimos via Pexels


A Full Mind is an Empty Mind

All I know is just what I read in the papers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance. – Will Rogers

I open my browser each morning,
Check in with curation-phone.
The pages are full of opinions,
With nothing new under the sun.

The newspaper too, where I find one.
A daily parade of the same.
The wag of the finger, the self-righteous tone,
Declaring the villain to blame.

The inbox as well, it is chock-full
Of siren songs: Eat-me and Drink.
Like Alice I blindly consume them,
And change the way that I think.

This molding is not to my liking;
It’s not even of my own choice.
When real information’s abandoned
In exchange for invidious voice.

The press is now propagandistic;
Agendas leap out to attack.
It seems like there’s no one to turn to
And certainly no turning back.

Our choices are clear, bright and simple:
The choice is between death and life.
One choice is the tightrope of freedom
The other a slippery cliff.

So turn off your lousy subscriptions.
Stop reading repetitive lies.
Stare out the window a moment or six.
And enjoy the truth that inspires.

‘You are what you eat’ said the writer.
It’s equally true for the heart.
Take care what you feed yourself – really.
Eat smartly, or be blown apart.

Distraction will lead to deception;
Delusion is not far behind.
Destruction will certainly follow,
In all those who keep themselves blind.

Such blindness may come from a smartphone,
Or earbuds we will not remove.
They create inhuman relation,
Replacing the flesh-and-blood kind.

A ‘wicked perverse generation’
The Christ called the men of his time.
A truth that is true in all seasons,
It holds in the days that are mine.

So I think I’ll go stare out the window,
Instead of the window within.
To see Him in His good creation,
And in my own freedom from sin.

The psalmist reports on the heavens,
How they speak of God’s wonderful love.
My own inner beauty reflects them,
And His grace means I’ve nothing to prove.

Image by Kaique Rocha via Pexels


Bottom Ten

I began this poem in 1998 and finished it a decade later. It was finally published three years ago this month. It seems to speak to our increasingly fractured online times.

I live with my door shut.
You can’t come in.
I am alone in my completeness.
I am complete, alone.
I am one,


I live with my door shut.
It’s cold in here.
My window is open.
It faces against the sun.
But I am too,


I live with my door shut.
Don’t bother me now.
I have things to do
But not with you.
I am testing
One, two three.


I live with my door shut.
But your hand keeps knocking.
You try to open
But I close again.
It’s only for


I live with my door shut,
A barrier smooth and cool.
It protects my secrets,
Which melt in the light.
Clutch them inside my five


I live with my door shut,
The hinges rusting.
A quarantine sign
Deters you from entry.
There is sick


I live with my door shut,
Hoping against hope.
Actually not – I’m
All crapped out.
Seven come


I live with my door shut,
An illusion of safety.
A game of chance
For losers, behind
The eight


I live with my door shut,
Schrödinger’s Cat.
See me  –
Change me.


I live with my door shut,
Hanging by a thread
Over the razor blade of the future.
Not betting on this hand.

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