Author Archives: JRL

Any Day Now: Sicilian sestet

Beneath the whisper quiet rush of dawnas the still sleeping earth begins to wake,before the last vestige of dark is goneand daylight gives its weary head a shake,enjoying one more furtive stretch and yawn,the chains of each new yesterday can … Continue reading

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Sense of Loss: sedoka

How does this thing work,
living without much thinking
outside your own box?
What a little world
that makes the whole of your life,
with just your own mess.
How does that make sense,
with so much beauty outside,
just past your front door?
What a sad living
you make, trapped with just yourself
and no sense of loss. Continue reading

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The Echo Cages: rubai

You can twist and turn them round and then pretend they are profound, but words are just like prison bars constructing cages out of sound we carry with us, though we are fine specks of dust from the small stars flung out and free in space and time. Continue reading

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The Use of Sorrow: roundelay

What’s the use in all this crying
and a slow descent to madness
because our illusions, dying,
strip away the veil of gladness
we spend our lifetime denying,
just to wallow in our sadness? Continue reading

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What Would Become: rondine

What would become of me without ambition,
a driving force to make some kind of mark,
to cast my feeble light out in the dark
and so improve my overall condition.
To otherwise behave suggests perdition,
a life led without purpose or benchmark.
What would become of me? Continue reading

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The Passing Game

When someone says we’re out of time, so what?
What difference does one more minute make,
if it’s just on or off, open or shut,
and more of just the same old tired mistakes?

When someone says we’re out of time, does that
mean everything so far is done in vain,
as if one’s whole lifespan’s a welcome mat
for one more doorway labeled “Try Again”? Continue reading

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Outside of Time: rondelet

We’re out of time,
past the hour when clocks expire.
We’re out of time,
beyond this moment’s final chime.
We can exist, if we desire,
right now – and never age or tire.
We’re out of time. Continue reading

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