Rags & Riches


The millionaire poets, no dollars just sense

Their estates so large too big for a fence

With endless pens to harness the needs

Gardens abound grown from their seeds


Though time not made with gold on wrist

Dawn awakes when morning kissed

Wealth’s not held it’s how you see

When life’s embrace forever free




Poets Bond


I want to be a secret agent

Passport full of places went

Double O’Steven will be my name

Deeds done, others to blame


Gadgets in kit bond to tell

Code’s sheathed if to dwell

As a writer undercover I’ll be

A life expected in obscurity


Armed with poetic license to kill

Never the bullet only the quill

Hearts broken come with the job

Words unspoken said with a sob


Cloaked with dagger to stabilize

Bored to tears obscure shaded eyes

Faceless unseen ready to pounce

Heads roll the tales announce


Shadowy figures have no fear

When lights on them they disappear

This chapter unknown forever lurks

A page turned another’s in the works




Check Please


Columns and rows stack the game

Times of yore much the same

Days of peace cloaked in junk mail

Nights at rest dreamt a fairy tale

The dark surrounds all who sleep

What can hold may also keep

Pawns a king can never make

Yet pawn a king can always take

Kings and queens rise and fall

While castle walls forever tall



Minus Minus


Static unheard in a charged universe,

all’s plus or minus, forward or reverse.

Ions abound to attract and repel.

Eons in space build stories to tell.


Energy’s harnessed by intensity of a core.

Waves emit in a vacuum of evermore.

Negatives negate, obscuring realization.

Where blinded are we to a positive ion nation.



Advance On No Advance


Writing for me is a chapter in a story I’ll see not done.

The beginning a bit sketchy, the middle’s been mostly fun.

A sequel’s now in the works, I can see the volumes begun.

Genre’s chosen comedy drawn, opera unspoken and drama shun.

Yet the covers close on all someday. I hope at the end we won.



The Track Side of the World


Another sun rose on converging tracks

Shedding light on forgotten backs

Graffiti brightens weathered wood and stone

A world rushed past, discarded and alone


World’s seem endless, far and wide

Though tracks divide side by side

Yet other sides cannot exist

If they did it would be missed


What is missed remains unseen

As does the time and space between

This ride planned doesn’t go everywhere

The straight and narrow’s only halfway there


The other half depends on you

All’s seeking direction as we all do

Equals always parallel, horizons curve and bend

All paths end on point, our perch will depend