Just the Same

Just the Same

Head backs away from the mic
A gracious bow to the audience,
A wave goodbye
Such a great show, good game
Hang up the costume,
Wash off the face

Time, now, to go home
Recharge the batteries
Wait for the old phone to ring
With new promises
Of brand new dreams, opportunities

Hands that are open
Are never really empty
Like a deep meditation,
Ready to really reach for something;
There is power in the waiting

The show goes on
On and on and on
Different setlist, but maybe
One or two familiar songs
Something to tap that foot to, sing along

Playing the game,
Finding rhythms, remembering names
Never easy for such a talent—
The dear we’re here to see and hear
We adore, just the same

Confessions of a Typo


Confessions of a Typo

Never possible to be perfect
To be perfectly honest

In fact, one might look to me
To see the epitome of
A bruised dream—
A word almost beautiful
If it had been written slowly, meticulously

Often, words on the run
Will run into trouble,
Whilst staying busy, so
Please forgive the glitch I can be:
Such a type o, oblivious me

Z

 

Running to Nature

With the help of my awesome graphic designer in New York (electrofork), I decided to make a book of poetry and photography. I have received positive feedback from the friends and family I have given pre-ordered copies to and could not be more thrilled. I have always had a love of nature and hope the project evokes the childlike spirit I intended.



Click the link below to view and purchase a copy:

Running to Nature

Let’s not forget to get outside and make the most of each day!

Z

 

 

The Boy Who Needed Magic

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The Boy Who Needed Magic

From many lips, 
I’ve often heard,
About the boy who needed
Magic
Not the spells of fairy tales
But, something so very
Magic

The people around 
Told the boy
To stick with what 
Made sense
“Boys who seek the magic
Often grow up lonely men.”

The boy did try

To find his place
In the most sensible of things
But, nothing of the sort 
Made sense
Not to this boy, at least 

So, into the woods
The boy did run
Away, or so he believed
But, what he found
Among the leaves
He ran to, magically
 
The magic began to 
Build inside —
The circles ’round 
He danced —
Holding hands with Nature,
The boy had found his 
True romance

Some say that boy still 
Lives somewhere, maybe
Inside a grown-up man,
The boy who needed magic
Dances circles
Inside of him

Z