Wasteland Sings

The remains of victims of the Shark Island camp emerging from the sand

Dead Sands

Birth Trifle Songs

Forgotten Melodies

Wake Sleeping Youth

Silent Winds

Dance Along Stolen

Unfulfilled Hopes

From Ashes Reborn

Troubled Souls

Return To Slumber.

The Sphinx

Sphinxes (Photo credit: schmaeche)


Sitting all alone


on a forgotten throne


of desert debris and spoiled human meat


No greedy follower to worship


nor sacrifices to hold


You ate more than your fill


and enslaved the needy


You’re dead now


but   left behind is


a feminine mind


designed in golden feathers and mane


sporting only the heart of a wench


who lives only to gain


 to watch over your gold


that you will never use and never hold


The sun eats away its desolate skin


The darkness hides its ancient scowl


No more riddles to be heard


No more answers to be skeered.


Left to remind generations to come


what  once was strong powerful


will fall to the ground


and die in vain


for  evil has not won


and all will be undone.



Thanks Tim for the inspiration! 🙂




I wrote this poem after I visited Jonny Coyote‘s blog and read his beautiful poetry! Thank you for sharing and inspiring me.

To Johnny Coyote who in my imagination is a cowboy Stetson and spurs included

forgive my wild imagination Johnny and accept this poem as a peace-offering 🙂


Never to men

French tribute to the American soldier ww2
French tribute to the American soldier ww2 (Photo credit: Za Rodinu)

Whose heads

Held high

Filled with

Glory and pride

for all the tears they fought

for all the battles they cried

for every little in-between

that was never  known

or even seen

For all the days

Unaccounted for

For the nights

Hidden behind

An empty door


Never to the brave

Who fell with honor

Never to the strong

How stood

With horror


will you be forgotten


Will you be taken for granted


Will you be unloved

You battle because you have to

You battle for what you believe in

You battle for what is just

You believe in peace

And hope no child

Hurts like you do

But remember that

no matter what

you are not alone

And like the light that stands

At harbor

Your light will glow

No matter the storm

Nor fog or snow

Your light will shine

And with privilege be shown.

Passionate Men

 PASSIONS are liken’d best to floods and streams: The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb; So, when affection yields discourse, it seems The bottom is but shallow whence they come. They that are rich in words, in words discover That they are poor in that which makes a lover. The Silent Lover; Sir Walter […]