we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imagined and/or real - come along with me - we'll dance among the stars under the sun and over the moon - share our stories around the campfire - come along -

this site is simply a streamofconsciousness rambling of words and images in which i find meaning and beauty - there is no organized order of thought or format -
poetry painting and writing on love and life and things thereof from the heart and through the eyes of a louisiana gypsy spirit travelin' roads less traveled...enjoy -


My photo
A...WOMAN IN MOTION WITH HAIR AS DARK AS NIGHT HER EYES WERE LIKE THAT OF A CAT IN THE DARK... SHE WAS A GYPSYWOMAN... she danced round and round... from the fire her face was all aglow... she was dancing... dancing... waiting for the RISING SUN... loving caring relationships are like THE RISING SUN...we are nourished by their warmth...we are energized by their strength...we grow in their light...we find shelter and solace there...they are our sanctuary... born in the sign of the sun, i am a true LEO-love the sun and its hot orange red fire-passionate in and about everything i do-i believe in instant chemistry charisma love/lust at first sight-in the magic of the eyes and the beauty of the soul-in the instant recognition familiarity in meeting someone from a past life and in the knowledge that we might meet in a future life-i believe that we are each ageless and flawless-i believe in the beauty of the moment-the whisper of yesterday-the hope of tomorrow-the power of forgiveness for even ourselves-the absolute and total beauty of love---[credit to brian hyland and curtis mayfield]

to dance with life

to dance with life
come dance with me...

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

the second skin...



Sunday, September 25, 2011

to the one i left in dover...

it's pourin' rain
deep down in here

dark black rain pourin' down
since you ain't near

pourin' sadness and sorrow
like they ain't no tomorrow

all them tarnished yesterdays
lookin' for somewhere to stay

but they ain't no more room
deep down in here

no they ain't
caus'a all this sicken'n fear

this heart'a mine's
just plumb runnin' over

since i done left you
up there in dover

yeah it's pourin' rain
deep down in here

'cause you ain't nev'a
no more
my dear

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

and now?...

 and what of you when she went away
when she slipped from view that cold dark day

did a part of her remain perchance
remnant of your swirling shadow dance

and what of you when she came back not
when she slipped from you in a loose lover’s knot

did a piece of her lodge in your heart
remnant of your mind’s work of art

and what of you now since she’s been gone
when with her she took your brilliant dawn

and what of her since she slipped from sight
when with you she left her beloved night

and what of her since she went away
when from you she left ‘fore judgment day

and what of you
and what of her


that she’s


what of you
what of her

Monday, September 19, 2011

a land without time...

it was a land without time
a land before time
the land of shifting time
shifting lines
shifting paradigms

the land in between
this time and that time

cast off yesterdays
had come to stay
on this mean solar day
of stars gone astray
in this land without time
this land sublime


Friday, September 16, 2011


his words
spiraling spinning
out of sight
into my sanity
my sovereign sanity
no longer held safe in
the sanctuary of my soul

his words

Thursday, September 15, 2011

a different place...

she comes from a different place

the mask of time leaves not her face

tears of crimson leave their mark

her heart beats to the tune of dark

into the shadow world she walks

her refuge now the cry of the hawk


she goes to a different place


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

indigo love...

feather quill dipped
in the ink well of my soul
seeking searching 
for my liquid holy grail
deeper and deeper
riding the waves of
indigo swirls
touches of thoughts
coming up now
clinging to the long
hard shaft in your
heart held hand
hold the tip
ever so close
making your mark
till i weep
songs of love


Sunday, September 11, 2011

is there...

is there no time for us
that we must love and part

is it a sin for us
to love with both our hearts

is there no way for us
to be in this life’s cusp


is there no place for us
before we turn to dust


Saturday, September 10, 2011


she had become homesick
for something quite unknown
something unfamiliar
something she seemed to have known
to have felt to have been
some other time some other place
but when or where remained a mystery to her
what or who it was she could not remember
an agnogenic condition for sure
but homesick she stayed
and so it was that her nostalgia grew
as did her yearning for that something missing
not complete not whole she could not quite grasp
sadness coupled with longing soon turned to despair
longing for a thing she could not even name
despair for a thing unknown
the more she tried to remember to surrender
to the mist of her now-faded memory
the more embattled her soul
as if some stranger some trespasser
a foreign interloper had quietly and stealthily sneaked
into the deepest recesses of her self
and plucked and plundered till there was no more remaining
no more indeed not even a drop
of what was of what had been of what should still be
that obscure something for which her melancholy grew
and which soon twisted into a weariness begging for resignation
resigning herself to lost recollection to lost recognition

nothing could salvage what was not there
nothing short of divination
and so in her abject morbid meditation
as she sat staring

into the nothingness of her days
something caught her eye
an illusion almost
an image a manifestation
of something but of what
what was it that she saw there
staring back at her from the other side
slowly ever so slowly she began to see what was
it began to take shape

to become
that something she could not name
began to blossom to grow to regenerate
the skeletal pieces came together
blanketed by a soft pink tint
under which she could feel
slowly but surely beating
her heart
she glanced furtively upward

directly into the eyes of
of that something she was missing
that she had almost forgotten
that she had nearly lost
the eyes of her

and then she saw not just the pieces but the whole image
the thing for which she had become homesick
the thing unknown unfamiliar
it was her -

without him


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

the call of the wild...

the call of the wanton wild           
echoes from the little child       
even the gods by her beguiled
keeper of the key to all is she
she flies the cosmos in utter glee       
for only she knows what will be       
this little child this child banshee

the steed of atonement does she ride
while under his hoofs worlds collide
and from his tongue the dead now cry
their pleas for mercy all denied
as prophets do in her confide

broken branches of peace once spoke
now devoured in crimson smoke
from in her hand with fiery stroke
or can it be the demons woke
there is no hiding under cloak

riddles ride the aeolian winds
spreading ashes of those who sinned
too late now their acts to defend
no more time their lives to mend
for unto them her wrath descends

ancient answers wing their way
eleusinian mysteries be their stay
 to live again carved in clay
if only they knew how to pray
but charred remains color their days
voices trickling from the past 
homeric hymns spun in glass
this and more the child forecast
she was the first and is the last

this little child born of the wild
whose virgin birth they did defile
and now pay all who did her rile

this little child

Sunday, September 4, 2011

je ne sais quois...

you move me
in ways indescribable
ways intangible

from sterile streets
desolate concrete
you move me

into uncharted seas
unknown degrees
you move me

through storm tossed nights
angels in flight
you move me

into the light
where stars ignite
you move me

from the lost quadrants
of my barren heart
you move me

to the fertile nile
river run wild
you move me

in ways indescribable
ways intangible
you move me


Thursday, September 1, 2011

the battle...

from you
there was no
no thief in the night
sneaking without sound
into the dark
that was my life
my love

from you
there was
the barging in
the raging stampede
the complete attack
holding unspeakable ransom
in one swift swoop
leaving no option but
the total surrender