the valley

from time to time
a valley intervenes
twixt the peaks
of life

you may feel low
but the water flows
through valleys
and puts the heights
into perspective

So hang in there
and take a draught
of water clear and pure
before you ascend once more

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Powerless

Life can be a pain
when aggressive and
unpleasant people
trample over your
feelings
proclaiming
that it's all your fault...

Poetry calms the anger
and restores
a tranquil
mind

To read or write
poetry
hits the spot
everytime

Poem without a Name

not every poem
has a name
a moniker to call
it's own

some just
hang out here
alone
unnamed

but not for
that disdained
for poem is
what poem does

and rose is rose
whatever man may
say

so nameless poem
rock on
rock on
and comfort me.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

post Sangria blues

what started as a great idea
some tapas, nachos
sangria

the cup was red
inviting cool
it slipped down
o so easily

overdo it
and pay the price
of your
all too
frail humanity

blear of eye
and ache of head
it's Thursday
and I've got them
post sangria blues

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

The Dangling Pentameter

Somewhere
my friend
there is a sea
where the poems
live
pre-written but as of now
unpublished

And all we have to do
is dip in and draw
a poem out by it's
dangling pentameters

Don't believe them
when they say
that poetry is hard
or I had an ode this big
but it got away!

All you have to do
is find the place
lie down and fish
in pleasant idyll
for the next big poem

DK

Farne Paradise

On this wind swept rocky outcrop
Sts Cuthbert and Aidan
withdrew to
solitary contemplation
of that other world

Lindisfarne
that monkly island
was too racy and fast
for the contemplative
mind situated as it was
on a beach nestled against
the cold tit of the North Sea

A 16 acre island
home of many a
shipwrecked soul
became the portal
of heaven to
the retiring saints
of God.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

The Dieters Spiritual Dream

Inside I feel like
Death warmed up
as Satan, the fatties sage
tells me to eat myself
to destruction

But the bright soldiers
of India lead me to life
to self control
to the figure of
a swami, soulful
Wrapped in saffron
cotton robes.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]