• Outside of my journalism, I've always written poetry, used words to weave tales, tell stories, express feelings, cast an eye upon the world. Often I find that we are at our most creative during momentous events, be they internal, external, happy, sad, international or simply extraordinary. Most of my poetry is incredibly personal. If it resonates at all then it will have done its job. Published here are a selection from 2020.

    On Lebanon


    I'm losing my way
    in this darkness.
    A spark almost out,
    coffee spilled on a page
    spread thin.

    If I stretch hard enough
    my hand touches something.
    It's just within my grasp.
    Until it's not.
    I missed.

    Perhaps I am doing it wrong.
    I keep my jaw slack.
    My mouth hangs open.
    I try not to swallow, so
    I drool.

    I keep my eyes half-focused.
    I use no muscles at all.
    My entire being goes passive.
    I do not participate. I do not respond.
    Utterly inert.

    It's what they want.
    But not what I want.
    To be hoodwinked by hoods
    with explosives in their pocket.
    No way.

    To let up the pressure
    is part of their plan. To
    take the movement off the streets
    and take it to the cleaners.
    Thanks but...


    I spin, search for balance.
    This life is a treasure.
    I am trapped but still able,
    of freedom.

    I'm losing my way
    in this darkness.
    A spark almost out.
    But look there is fuel, I am light and
    I burn.

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