Passion

Good poetry
is like steaming soup:
about to burn
your tongue.

i min
hjärta
jag tänker på dig

Ofta tänker jag mig
ett ek
täckt med...

Sweeter than just a sound
She has fire in her soul
Her laughter drowns disaster
And...

Climax

After a series of
deliberate
well placed strokes
Some kind of fusion...

The Value of Tears

I truly cannot sing her praises
loud or long enough
She really...

White Violets

I very nearly fell asleep
without remembering
The four white violets...

Two Harbours

Three cities
Two harbours
A single promise
Broken ..

...

Grief
Is the
Reaper To
Love

It's flame
Smothered
By
The...

Kunoichi no Geisha

Sitting lightly
In my very own
Darkness
And smiling...

A Little Indiscretion

If I said I wanted you
more than any other woman
And for...

Cova

Cova spoke fondly of her Andalusian sea
She also spoke five languages including mine...

Baby grand and the piano man
Land by chance
where the keys chime a fingertips grab
...

THE RED WHITE AND BLUE THAT IS SEEN ON OUR FLAG,
USED TO BE SOMETHING OF WHICH WE COULD BRAG....

I want to know
if you ever
floated
to the sky
and felt
the clouds...

Precious Scars

Where would I be without these
precious scars my friend
My very own...

The Birth of Opals

Upon my very word indeed
I did once marvel
at the seeming...