From The Vault

I used to write a lot of poetry. Not because I was a tortured artist, because I had a lot to say. I don’t write much in the way of Creative Writing nowadays, but I thought I would dig out some of my old poems and share them. So, read on if you feel like it. 🙂

“I resist anything better than my own diversity, and breathe the air and leave plenty after me, and i am not stuck up, and in my own place” – Walt Whitman.

To Celebrate the View From the Past


To those who I have never met,

Though the past brought you to my future,

I know now why you are there,

Nor what keeps you standing in my way,

Only that your grasp, your lockdown,

No longer has a place here.

It shall be dismantled with the force of a hurricane,

This hurt will no longer bear your signature,

The light that beams from this soft scenery,

will melt through the icy night,

the stream carves it own new path,

We will vacate the darkness,

Wrest from its hands: the damage, the control and loneliness,

It will be the greatest triumph over this manipulation,

This caution, your warning,

To heed it, your choice.

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