Hidden Weekday MorningDrinking coffee on my own, at a table for two.Hidden Weekday Morning
An older couple
(she's younger than him) they sit beside me sipping tea from mugs
that look like bowls.
The caffeine is like burning nectar caressing my tongue. My lips are brushed with chocolate.
Father and daughter maybe. They smile with their eyes and have the same posh accent. But speak comfortably with in-jokes that come with years of friendship. Would she call him Dear? Not Dear Papa or Dear Daddy.
Just Dear, with love that f
A Buzz About PoetryIn the beginning, there is normally a beginning and it seemed like the perfect place to start for Gene, the busy inquisitive bee, no metaphors there, as he wandered through poetry to search for the truth. He wanted to discover the narrative within, and how the story unfolded, to see the spectacle of the set-up, get-up, sign-off.A Buzz About Poetry
Gene was assured that poetry was nonsense, jumbled up into any order, not strictly making sense, with monkeys on a typewriter, "noodle" next to "teardrop", a poem apparently. But the assurances were ignorant, and Gene was determ
There Is Normally A BeginningMy footsteps sound like my heartbeat and I've never even noticed. Thumping internally, externally, loud enough to cause ripples on the concrete...or at least cause cracks in shadows. But there are none, not today. What there is, is an inordinate number of people accompanied by two eyes each that I'll never see. There's a summer feeling in the air: flip-flops and too-wide smiles seem to adorn everyone I encounter. The sun makes one smile at strangers. How can a ball of fire cause happiness? In countries where it's always filled with sunshine, their faces must crack under all the pretend cheer. It's not normal to smile all the time. Is it? &nbsThere Is Normally A Beginning
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