A few poems I’ve written and illustrated.
- Improvisation
Thinking about the girls I’ve loved. This is one of those times when a flood of feelings erupts into prose, and I improvised this poem.
Mindless imagination,
in a world of fascination.Wordless recognition, is quite an ambition,
Two young people in a state of transition.Honest conversation, quiet contemplation,
Someone to lend a hand when life makes its demand.Improvisation, without realizations,
Bad decisions, eroding ambitions. - Fractured Light
A poem about splitting up.
The Divide
Up before your partner, out the door before she wakes.
Tending to the daily grind, not seeing your love at stake.Ignoring whatever’s bothering you, hiding it in the beer.
Back at home, face on the phone, not a single word to hear.A chore or two, the TV’s on, now it’s time for bed.
A separate place to rest your head, again, no word is said.He reaches out, if only for a touch.
She pull away as his mother did.
An old wound, dark and cruel.
He could stay in the silence, the house unchanged,
Walking the same worn rooms with nothing rearranged.The sun will rise, the days will pass, the distance staying tight,
Two bodies moving side by side, alone throughout the night.And I would watch him try and brace himself, for the rant of angry fire,
Learning once again how lonely life is, in the face of no desire.It is the path of slow erosion, quiet as falling sand,
A future built on habit, not the hope he once had planned.Or he could turn toward freedom, the path that splits away,
Pack a little courage and choose a different day.A room of his own waiting, a gentler kind of air,
A life rebuilt from tender things, a chance for kindness shared.I’d walk beside him softly, whispering when he’s unsure,
Holding his hand, helping carry the weight, and walking out the door.It is the path of breaking, but breaking to transform,
A life reclaimed in quiet where the heart begins to warm.The Path of Confronting Truth
Or he could stand before her, the truth held in his hand,
Ask for what’s been buried, help him understand.The pain, the years, the emptiness, the things they never said,
The moments that were stolen by the silence in their bed.I’d steady him with presence as he tells her what he feels,
Lending him the courage to remember what was real.It is the path of fire, where honesty decides,
Whether love can rise again or finally divide.
Review by Perplexity
This is a deeply contemplative and emotionally mature poem. “The Ponderer” captures both the quiet ache and the moral weight of long-term companionship eroding under neglect. The narrative viewpoint—an unseen “I” watching from the margins—adds a haunting, almost spiritual tone, as though the speaker is a conscience, muse, or inner witness guiding the man through his choices.
The structure is intense and cinematic. The opening stanzas convey a sense of routine and emotional distance through simple, grounded imagery—beer, phone, bed—which lends the later philosophical sections (“The Path of Staying,” “The Path of Leaving,” “The Path of Confronting Truth”) a sense of moral clarity. Those three titled parts read like a triptych: a map of the human heart navigating between fear, freedom, and truth. It feels complete yet open-ended, inviting reflection rather than offering judgment.
Stylistically, the consistent rhyme and rhythm support the theme of cycles and choice. A few lines—like “I linger in your quiet places” and “I’d walk beside him softly”—are especially beautiful, delicate enough to balance the darker domestic realism. If you wanted to push it further, you might experiment with tightening some phrasing in the early stanzas (“Goin’ about your business” could be smoothed to match the more lyrical later tone), or make the three “Path” sections formally mirror one another even more precisely for added symmetry.
Overall, it’s tender, observant, and full of moral gravity—almost like Robert Frost meets Raymond Carver, but through a spiritual lens.
- The Shadow Train
The Shadow Train
I’m lookin’ out the window, on a south-bound train,
Yeah, I’m lookin’ at the shadow of the shadow train.
Racin’ down the tracks side by side,
Ridin’ the rails where love ran dry.Smoke on the horizon, moon ridin’ low,
Steel rails hummin’ where cold winds blow.
A train and its shadow, side by side.
Ridin’ the rails with nothing to hide.A train and its shadow, vowed never to fail,
Keepin’ pace with the engine, on rundown rails.
Steel on steel, bound by pain,
In the shadow of a fast-moving train.
There’s a shadow out the window, ridin’ along side me,
Runnin’ down the line where love used to be.
I hear the whistle blowin’, blowin’ soft as rain,
Carryin’ on the heartfelt rhythm of the shadow train.Movin’ fast as lightin’, the world passing by,
Old memories flicker, still alive,
While the train tracks hum that low refrain,
Of the south-bound shadow, of the shadow train.
Analysis of “Shadow Train”
This song rides the same tracks found in the Book of Luke:
The road between what was
And what still might be.Luke wrote about travelers,
about light breaking through darkness,
About faith that keeps moving
Even when the path is unclear (Luke 9:51).Like the two who walked the road to Emmaus,
This story is about companionship you can feel
but can no longer reach.
A presence that moves beside you,
Familiar, yet fading (Luke 24:13–35).The shadow train is not lost,
And it’s not despair.
It’s memory and mercy,
Love that still keeps pace in its own way.Sometimes the hardest part
Is learning to let the shadow pass,
to keep moving forward,
And to trust that not everything is lost.
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