An Unplanned Siesta

Again, I find myself

Standing at a crossroads,

Pondering directions.

Unsure which path to take.

Should I? Could I? Perhaps?


The sun is overhead.

At the roadside, flowers.

Birdsong lilts from afar.

Wheat heads rustle nearer.


It’s been a long journey,

Full of rush and bother,

That led me to this place.


Beside these thoroughfares

I shall pause, breathe, relax.


There’s time for a siesta.



Inarticulate warbles

Muted in passage through walls

And woods.


Understood by tone

And cadence long before

Any sound clarifies to coherent








Thrumming temples

Dread descends with every step

Upward to that door

Where home fires burn


Chill beneath palm

Hand lingers

Warming brass

As crass language

And rage harass

His tired dragging ass



Knob turning



Summoning St. Jude

None heed my bugle call to muster;
There is no energy around.
My motive force is lacking luster;
Can’t get my feet up off the ground.
There is no bellow to my bluster;
Just hollow notes of trumpet sound.
I can’t escape the coming ouster;
No way to slip the baying hounds.

The rising tide has surged right by me;
Leaving me to flounder in the splash.
From it’s ebbing tow, I’ll not flee;
My hopes, upon the rocks, they dash.

My dreams are dragged into the deep,
Among their sodden mass, I sleep.

Labor of Love

It shouldn’t be that hard
Assembling a computer!
That’s what I told him;
That’s what I said.

My head is aching
My back is cramping
My eyes are burning
And so are my ears.

My knees are throbbing
My stomach is rumbling
My fingers are shaking
And so is my head.

But my heart’s filled with joy and pride
And, on the happy note, I’m off to bed!

Hellenistic Hellhounds! Or:(One Sick Sonnet)

On a day like this, it seems to me
My body’s just a playing field
For the endless strife of mythology
Intent on driving me to yield.

Achilles bane way down below
locked in clamorous mortal battle
With headache only Zeus would know
But can’t drown out the Siren’s babble!

The fume & din of Hephaestus’ forge
Beats bloody cadence in my head!
While Nosoi gather to raise my gorge,
I beg from Charon, the ride ahead!

That sums it up, this bitter rhyme!
I’ve had enough! It’s sleepy time!