New Poems are published first on Ko-fi. Once a month I’ll post a new poem here. Thanks for reading.

We Used to Burn

One Used Sword

A Wind So Dry

The Liminal Sea

 This windy port draws the lonely
through tufting tides between bows
and skiffs.

Sailors and navigators ply
unseen highways from this rough
city to another.

To ride the whale road takes heart
and luck and an empty home; 
none waiting.

The space between ports liminal
full of risk, fear; chances to perish,
and of hope.


The trees do not betray,
though the paths between them diverge,
and the way is lost.


What hate
they spend
on me
I allow them
to waste.
Mine is not
to give
but take,
and take all
they expend,
until no more
is there life
in them.

The Fortunate Few

The fortunate few are as cursed
by fortune or ill fate; the view
hinged upon which side of the gate
one stands in the mired stain.


What tears at our souls
comes not from the outer dark,
nor from flames below;
but borne on black wings
of desires from within

Golden Sacrifices

Golden mountain peaks,
frost hoary valleys;
bones of the ancients
crumble under time,
it’s eternal weight.
All soldiers sacrificed to the gods of war.

To War

Warriors gather your arms,
Embrace the women’s fair charms,
Kiss away their alarms—no lament
Leave hearth home intent for harms!


A fire snaps burning cold,
memories burn and scratch.
What I’ve lived, unseen
by kings and queens
who marched
us all to death.