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Rave On...

An unhealthy obsession

The sombre procession

As loved ones carry your coffin

I think of it often

And never forgotten

Your lies and later confession

I long for the day I can finally say

Here’s a glow stick and whistle

To your grieving widow

And hold a rave on your grave

I’m gonna hold a rave on your grave

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At the Grave

As the rains came we followed

As the rains fell we listened

And walked towards the minister,

Passing by the dark grave wherein she lies,

To drop another daffodil, a final kiss from life,

On the pale box below.

And on, to cluster round beneath the trees

Circling the family, rooted by some strange harmony

Of communion: a drifting mass lost in loss.

On the hillside, as the ...

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Chapter 18: Roses On Your Grave

entry picture



I'm standing on the string you left me 
Not holding on and not letting go 
I don't have a strong grip with my beaten hands 
So you spin me around until I lose my balance.

I'm so mesmerized by the way you make me feel 
Like a diamond that caught my eye 
Wrapped up in this web of yours 
The more I pull, the tighter it gets.

Why couldn't you cut the rope and just let me fall? 

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The Silent Quill

entry picture


a grated gate by midnight's light
once fell upon a sorry sight
as rain washed out the scarlet stain
the skies bowed down to hear the pain

a voice without a body heard
the sordid tale its waist did gird
one witness found, torn leaf by leaf
Creation's glory sank to grief

a tale no word was writ nor said
into the ground the silence bled
a soaked and orphaned quill remains

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