Daily Verse a short verse (almost) every day

Ball & Chain

Your playful voice lifts me up,
your welcome tweets make me smile.
Your presence is smooth,
pleasant, and soothes
and I almost forget for a while…

I know you don’t owe me anything,
and I’d never take your pity.
Yet, I wonder if what ails me,
binds and derails me,
is beyond your capacity.

It is I who am truly sorry
for being unable to soar.
Even as my heart wishes to fly
with you into the sky,
my mind is tethered to the floor.

Will I ever be free of these chains,
these sins that drag me down?
Am I never to take wing again?
Hear the wind sing again?
Just scamper on the ground?

I may never find another as you,
of that I’m acutely aware.
But if there’s one thing I can do,
it’s not letting it drag you too:
it is my burden to bear.

I’m too well anchored to hope
to achieve escape velocity.
Until I find a way to break free,
or learn to somehow carry it with me,
the ball and chain is my reality.


I knew, the moment I saw you,
that I will always love you more.

What I didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t,
was how little you’d love me back.

Last Days

If all I had was a year to live,
I’d travel the world, a heart adrift.

When only a handful months remain,
I’ll code and write, sketch and paint.

I’ll feast in my final fortnight
on favorite foods and sweet delights.

I’ll save a few concluding days
for admiring nature’s wonderous ways.

And in my last remaining hour or two,
I’ll sit back, relax, and think of you.

Standing Rock

They came with trucks
and machines and guns
to pipe their liquid gold.

The water and hills
and all life therein
to the highest bidder sold.

Politicians and newsmen
look the other way,
afraid to break the mold

while men and women are
gassed and sprayed
with water freezing cold.

On hearts and minds
this struggle maintains
an unyielding, striking hold.

Our times and values
will be judged by this:
by this our history told.

Of those who protected
water, and those
who would rather fold.

Of a world lush for
the young, or trapped in
the greed of the old.

Free Speech Zone

I’ll mute you on Twitter,
block you on Facebook,
shut you out of my feed
so I never have to look

at your suffering or pain
or logic or perspective.
Your truth is a lie and
your sources vindictive,

they hate my ilk and
despise my kind:
if you let them
they will poison your mind.

So share your damn articles,
retweet to heart’s delight.
Make all the noise in the world,
you’ve already lost the fight.

I see you shouting but all I hear
is the comical sad trombone.
My world doesn’t care what you say
in your tiny little free speech zone.