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Vagabonds is a brand new creative literary anthology featuring poems, short fiction, photography, and more.  I have three poems in the set, and the rest of it ain’t bad either.

I’m pretty excited to be a part of it, and to see my work in the company of other great writers.   Check it out for free by downloading it from Lulu. 


Poetic Interlude #7

On Angst

Here I am, hoping

That this time, the glow of good fortune

Does not abandon me

As quickly as each day we lose the warmth of the sun;

That this night, sleep awaits me with opium dreams:

Visions of this future I chose, painted

In the soft strokes of a broken morning.

Poetic Interlude #6

Cold thoughts for a very warm day.

In the Woods

There were times that I’d be walking

In the whispering woods at night,

And the snow was glomping softly off the trees.

The stars would glimmer and they’d shiver,

As my heart searched for respite,

And the cold would make me sniffle, drip, and sneeze.


I often went a-walking

When you wouldn’t hold me tight,

And I walked a monstrous awful lot indeed.

Often times I wondered,

And I cursed my loveless plight:

I thought of where my lonely life would lead.


It’s a common misconception,

When the future’s looking bright,

That smiles are all genuine and free.

But the frozen woods have taught me

When I walk alone at night

That the light that dazzles you?  It isn’t me.

Poetic Interlude #5


I long to cast aside and break

The ponderous chains of silent desperation

That I – that we – have bound

So cruelly tight around me:

Twisted ropes that keep me grounded,

And lead me, helpless, to a safety that I never wanted;

Far away from the singing freedom

Of willful indifference

And the wild harmonics of an unfettered heart.

Poetic Interlude #4

In myth, Atlas holds up the heavens,

But it seems this world is mostly sky.

I wonder at the airy places in my heart,

Where cool numbness rises to form clouds

That drift through the caverns in the breeze

As the walls close in, and dissipate:

Tempestuous packets of electric fluid

Traveling with the currents of my mind,

Breeding into thunderstorms behind my eyes.

Poetic Interlude #3

High O’er the Mist

High o’er the mist the crimson sun will rise,

And burn off shadows with its fiery staves;

Will kiss the sea that ever glistening sighs,

And bears the golden light upon its waves.

The sleepy land, still in the darkness drowned,

Cradled by the looming stars above,

Sleeps alone in peaceful dreams profound –

For I am waiting lonely for my love.


The rosy light will touch benighted fields,

And slip between the branches of the trees;

Transform the leaves ‘to tiny blazing shields

That bristle like an army in the breeze.

Dawn will flood the windows with its rays,

And on the huddled rooftops it will break;

The craftsmen and the farmers start their days –

But I will pace my penance by the lake.


And as the shadows lengthen ‘cross the lands,

And cool the grassy meadows through the day,

They mute the ocean’s crashing on the sands,

And draw the fishers home across the bay.

The moon, with gentle light, the valley fills,

And softly silver now the water gleams –

Still I walk unceasing through the hills,

Searching for my love inside my dreams.