dredge the shallow pool of my soul for something of substance if you dare try   all you will glean from that murky mire are hellish spectres dreams and hopes lost since dashed and lost never forgotten buried or resolved only mourned   –  from the desk of Nigel Burke  

the bottle, the glass, and I

red wine, what a victoryquickly, the glass is paintedand thusly it is paledfilling with voidlossI’m losing againalwaysmore wine, more successI must catch up stay ahead of the raceand my own failurebefore long, victoryconsumes methe bottle’s turn has cometo be filled with losswhile my glass seems eternally pinkas am I – from the desk of NigelContinue reading “the bottle, the glass, and I”

last night’s dream of a morning

last night’s dream: you and I togetherhappy, caring nothing farther thanlight;ever yellow morning sun drifting through open shuttershours fly – little utteredgazing unto greenholding tightlaughterdelirious delightmaking love over and overworld paying no mindalone, existing notlight is morning sun foreverbare skinnedbliss fullwaking up alone, I keep you with me all dayand remain happy