Your Life and Your Ride



When your ride

Is cold, hard steel



And your day

Is long, hot and hostile,



How do you end

Your night's lonely thoughts?



Are they cold and hard

Like your ride?



Are they long, hot and hostile

Like your day?



Are do you separate

The job from your personal life?



It is a struggle

That leaves many

Swimming in the sauce

Or choking on a… Continue

But the Idea Gets Across



Rythme, ryhmn, broken time,

I write as rough as the edge of a dime.



Thoughts, themes, ideas, schemes,

I've got plenty of them, in my dreams....



Smoothness? Yes, sir!

I will try,



But like the dime,

That's rough on edge,



My works pass on in time,

And they act as though a wedge.



Place them in their right spots,

And watch them open your thoughts.



Read them when… Continue

I apologize for my faux paux. Recently someone requested a friendship link to my page. I inadvertently deleted the link. Please re-submit.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.
Roger

Flutes and Flambeauxs



What is this strange land

Of flutes and flambeauxs



Dancing in the streets

To musak with strange beats?



It is the collage

Of cultures mixed



With French, Spanish, Creole

And international flare.



Have you seen the Indians

Of this partying town?



Yes, they call themselves Indians.

Dressed in flamboyant costumes



With beads and feathers

And painted… Continue

Death's Remains 2000



Staring down at the remains

Mrs. Thomas' lifeless veins.

The blood not flowing

It's richness drained.

Blank eyes staring

At nothingness.

Makes one hold

Abated breath.

Pale the once proud cheeks

And dry the tongue of life.

Thoughts once flowing

Gone with her last breath.

Officials collecting evidence

Hold their thoughts

Of life's fragile balance,

Knowing that they, too,

Walk the… Continue

Wax Pool 2000



Like a wax pool

Formed beneath the once proud candle

Lies the warm remains

Of a light once bright.



When moments ago the candle bright

It shone upon those

Around the starlit circle.

How hot the wax did burn.



The wheels of life turned round and round.

Into the flame the moth did fly,

Snuffed the life blood

From its ill begotten flight.



The lifeless form

Of still warm pooled… Continue