Poem: Pompeii

Pompeii If I could be an artisan I would be happy    with a pile of colored tiles the size of fingernails. I would choose a floor in a villa overlooking    the sea, atop a promontory jutting into the bay.

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Low Born

Written in one of my sombre moods. I reread it today for the first time since I wrote it. Give it a go and tell me what you think.

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Poem: Diamonds Beneath The Soles Of My Shoes

Diamonds Beneath The Soles Of My Shoes There was the time when the guy surprised me as I relieved myself at the urinal, the knife point firm against my back, yelling something about someone, turning my face slowly just in time to catch his blinded stare. Said nothing.

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Ese hombre, Pimpinela. (that man)

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Thank You

      A few days ago I got an email from a dear friend and loyal supporter here on newsvine. I was touched by her note and have decided to return to newsvine as an active participant.

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Just a note to let you know.

Recently, I received a email from a newsvine friend expressing sadness at my absence from this community. I responded to the email and after contemplating her words decided to publish this short explanation. I am doing fine, but am experiencing a little bout of writer's block.

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Poem: Nude

Nude

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Poem: Absent You

Absent You Absent the falling of laughter from the ceiling Our amber turning golden in the arms of time When whatever had been recedes into mercy How the easy came like honey whispered I turn in my bed to look at the ceiling Waiting for the phone to ring. p.m.

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Poem: Mantis

Mantis

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Poem: I Do Not Dream Enough

I Do Not Dream Enough

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